JACOB'S BREAKING DAWN
by just4ubb
Summary: who needs romanticied titles anyway Jacob/OC, AU, TW, don't read this ahahahhaahjfksdh;fsak
1. Preface

**PREFACE: Pages 627-628, Eclipse**

****I was running before I hit the trees, my clothes strewn out behind me like a trail of crumbs - as if I wanted to find my way back. It was almost too easy now to phase. I didn't have to think. My body already knew where I was going and, before I asked it to, gave me what I wanted.

I had four legs now, and I was flying.

The trees blurred into a sea of black flowing around me. My muscles bunched and released in an effortless rhythm. I could run like this for days and I would not be tired. Maybe, this time, I wouldn't stop.

But I wasn't alone.

_So sorry_, Embry whispered in my head.

I could see through his eyes. He was far away, to the north, but he had wheeled around and was racing to join me. I growled and pushed myself faster.

_Wait for us_, Quil complained. He was closer, just starting out from the village.

_Leave me alone_, I snarled.

I could feel their worry in my head, try hard as I might to drown it in the sound of the wind and the forest. This was what I hated most - seeing myself through their eyes, worse now that their eyes were full of pity. They saw the hate, but they kept running after me.

A new voice sounded in my head.

_Let him go._ Sam's thought was soft, but still an order. Embry and Quil slowed to a walk.

If only I could stop hearing, stop seeing what they saw. My head was crowded, but the only way to be alone again was to be human, and I couldn't stand the pain.

_Phase back_, Sam directed them._ I'll pick you up, Embry._

First one, then another awareness faded into silence. Only Sam was left.

_Thank you,_ I managed to think.

_Come home when you can_. The words were faint, trailing off into blank emptiness as he left, too. And then I was alone.

So much better. Now I could hear the faint rustle of the matted leaves beneath my toenails, the whisper of an owl's wings above me, the ocean - far, far in the west - moaning against the beach. Hear this, and nothing more. Fell nothing but speed, nothing but the pull of muscle, sinew, and bone, working together in harmony as the miles disappeared behind me.

If the silence in my head lasted, I would never go back. I wouldn't be the first one to choose this form over the other. Maybe, if I ran far enough away, I would never have to hear again . . .

I pushed my legs faster, letting Jacob Black disappear behind me.


	2. Chapter 1

Arms, around my belly. Failing to lift.

Voices, calling. "Lochlan, it's too heavy, give us a hand."

Fingers, curling around my ankles, hoisting.

I wanted to bite the invader. Let me die. It had taken months to run myself into this weariness. Minutes to drag myself into the surf, ready to collapse and drown. If I _could_ drown. Stupid werewolf characteristics.

I growled, baring my teeth.

"Cal, anaesthetic, quick. We've got a angry one."

And the cold steel of a needle sliding effortlessly into my rump. Did they really think that drugs would work? My blood would burn it so damn fast that if I went out at all, it wouldn't be for long.

Little dots tumbled across themselves, like waves at the beach, from the sides of my vision. Then nothing. Sweet, blessed, comatose sleep.

I growled, pissed off. Freaking months of preparation, and some kid has to drag me to safety. It had been hard, getting far enough away that I couldn't hear them. I could still hear faint calls.

_Jake…_ That would be Embry, interfering bastard.

Bella would be married by now. And turned into a bloodsucker.

My words came back to me._ I don't have leeches on my speed-dial_.

I willed the animal to take over again, take me away from Jacob Black, and turn me back into the beast. Eat, drink, sleep, run. Nothing else. No complicated emotions.

The anaesthetic had numbed me into a vegetable.

I'd be a tomato. Everyone thought it was a vegetable; it put up a good show. Hell, it even fooled itself. But the tomato was a fruit. Not a vegetable. I wasn't human, no matter how much I tried to persuade myself and Bella that I was.

My senses came back slowly.

Touch. Cold, against my back. Lino, by the texture.

Taste. The fading chemicals. So they had force-fed me some stronger stuff while I was under.

Hear. Water, gurgling down pipes. A heartbeat, slow and steady. Breathing, measured and deep.

Smell. Cosmetics. Strawberry shampoo. Ouch. That stung. Bella'd used strawberry. Too close. Probably the same brand. A human smell. A nice human smell. And something else. Like a leech, but not quite. An ancient scent, at least three years old.

But no sight. It must be bloody pitch-black. Even a wolf needs a little light to see by, though less than most.

I pieced together my surroundings. I was in a bathroom. Most likely a girl's. I stretched cautiously and my toenails clicked against a bathtub. An ensuite then. Too small for a normal size. And the girl would be outside, asleep in her bed. Bloody brilliant.

_Come home…_ I pushed Quil's voice out of my head. At least, I tried.

_We understand. So sorry. Come home …_

They were getting clearer; getting closer. They would find me. Drag me back to the place with all the memories that I didn't want.

There was one way to make their tracking process harder. They couldn't follow my mind this way, only sniff out my trail. I phased back to a human shape.

It was hard to control my limbs. I hadn't even thought of this form for months. I staggered slightly as I placed one hand on the doorknob.

She was breathing slowly. In. Out. In. Out. Still asleep. I turned the handle millimeter by millimeter, memorizing its gold-plated odor and listening for waking sounds from the girl. Then it was open, and I was striding silently along the fluffy carpet. It was dark in the room, and when I glanced toward the heartbeat, all I could make out was a shadowy shape. Even with my eyesight, it was dark. No one liked absolute darkness. This chick had problems.

I inhaled a breath of air. The girl. The disconcerting stench of a vampire. And then that tinny gold.

It was better after I crept out. There was more light. It suddenly came to mind that I wasn't wearing anything and that it would be pretty conspicuous strolling through town without any clothes on. I sniffed. Denim. Cotton. Lynx. These combined seemed to suggest a man's wardrobe. I could only pray he was my size.

He was a textbook fit.

Now to mingle in with the other teenagers in this city. School. Malls. Beach. I mentally scratched malls and beach when I noticed the date on a calendar next to the front door. Halfway through the school term. I wondered how to enroll at a school without a parents' help.

Would anyone notice if I just showed up and asked for my timetable?

"I'm Trixie," one of the girls surrounding me said, fluttering her eyelashes. "So where did you move here from, Jacob?" Trixie's face was the picture of sincerity, as if she really cared. But still, I had to be on my guard.

"Uh," I hesitated. "Around." Maybe they'd be happy with that answer. It would probably sound mysterious to their eager brains.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Trixie warbled. My ears were so busy protesting at the shrill pitch, that it took a while for me to discern words from the mindless noise.

"No." I answered shortly. I wish. If I did have a girlfriend, I felt like saying, I wouldn't be here. I would be back at La Push with her, every second I could with her. But Bella had chosen the leech. Or _Edward_ as she liked me to call him.

"All the more time you can spend with _me_ then!" Trixie sounded delighted. "You lucky boy!"

A grunt of amusement was unexpectedly thrown into the mix. So I wasn't the only one that found the idea of wasting time with this primping skeleton appalling. I glanced in the direction of my comrade in ideas.

And then I saw her.

I was _glowing_.

Everything inside me came undone as I stared at the face of the girl. All the lines that held me to my life were sliced apart in swift cuts, like clipping the strings to a bunch of balloons. Everything that made me who I was - my love for the girl in Forks, my love for my father, my little remaining loyalty to the pack, my hatred for my enemies, my home, my name, my _self_ - disconnected from me in that second - _snip, snip, snip_- and floated up into space.

I was not left drifting. A new string held me where I was.

Not one string, but a million. Not strings, but steel cables. A million steel cables all tying me to one thing - to the center of the universe.

I could see that now - how the universe swirled around this one point. I'd never seen the symmetry of the universe before, but now it was plain.

The gravity of the earth no longer tied me to the place where I stood.

It was the slim girl twisted elegantly in her chair that held me here now.


	3. Chapter 2

"Do you want to say something? Christina?" I heard through my epiphany. Her name was Christina. Chris, Chrissy, Christy.

I gazed at her flawless face, soaking up her bright eyes and long shimmering blonde hair. Her skin was a light tanned shade, apart from her nose, which was sunburned, peeling.

"No, Beatrice, I don't." Her clear voice penetrated my slow-motion world, her pink lips curving around each syllable. I didn't have the courage to think her name, in case I broke the spell.

"Class, I have a meeting at my son's primary school, this is now a free period." I glared at the balding man who had interrupted, awakening me to the bleak reality that I couldn't stare at this angel for the rest of my life.

Then she stood up, moving to the front of the room, almost fluidly.

Gravity had disappeared. I was only connected to the ground by a thousand cords, cords that were tied to _her_. Christina. And now she was walking away. I felt the string pulling me, entreating me to run after her. And then she was leaning in to a boy. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Handsome, I could see that, was secure enough in my own masculinity to admit it. And he was touching her, stroking her hand, she was whispering conspiratorially. I knew I could hear her, but I couldn't concentrate on the words. And then they ran out of the room together, he was clutching at her protectively. Strings were snapping, thinning to a threadbare consistency.

"'Scuse me." I mumbled, standing up abruptly, upsetting the effortless flow of chatter from Trixie. Beatrice, as I now understood.

"Where are you going?" She snapped, and then calmed her tone into a sugary enticement. "Won't you stay with me?"

"Uh, bathroom." I muttered, pacing up the aisle. I decelerated next to the boy's chair, picking up his scent. I hadn't smelt her yet.

I stalked their fresh trail across a blacktop basketball court, past an oversized library and into the refreshing shade of a generous gym. And there she was.

Whirling to the rhythm of the music filling the building, her limbs sinuously soaring through the space enclosing her lithe body.

I took a deep breath through my nose, locating her fragrance. It smelled wonderful; warm and comforting. And strangely familiar. Then the truth hit me. It was _the_ girl. The one whose ensuite I had been in. The one with the old leech stink in her bedroom. My body started to panic, and I began to shake uncontrollably, struggling to hold my form together.

Calm, I thought to myself soothingly.

The melody climaxed and Christina sank to the floor

melodramatically.

"Nice one Chris!" The boy said, suddenly there, and hugging her. "What did you think, Jacob?" He looked intently at me over her head. Christina twisted in his arms, turning, an expression of bemusement on her stunning face.

"Uh," I began, snatching a breath. "It was great, you were great." I cursed myself for not starting a better conversation. "I liked the sound track."

"Thanks," the boy said. "It took me ages to get it right, but Chrissy's worth it."

I almost boiled over with jealousy at how close he was to her. I looked at them together and wondered if they were related.

"Well you did a good job . . ." I remembered that I didn't know his name yet.

"Caleb. Caleb Brennan."

"And I'm Chrissy Preston."

"Jacob Bl-Simmons." I'd nearly slipped up, calling myself Jacob Black. Unbelievable. I should know better, even if I was disappointed by the different surnames. And then the ball rang.

"Catcha later Chris. You wanna ride today?" Caleb asked her. She pursed her lips, perusing the offer. "No. Tod'll pick me up."

"'Kay. Bye!"

I watched Chrissy retrieve a CD from the boom box in the corner and slip it into a canary-yellow case. "Where are you headed?" she asked casually.

"Um, English, I think."

"Same, who've you got?"

"Castles?"

She smiled, a winning smile, with traces of dimples flashing. "I'll show you the way. You're in my class."

She slung her bag over her shoulder, staggering a little at the momentum and headed towards the warm sunshine streaming through the open door.

I followed eagerly, running the events of the past quarter of an hour through my head. I'd imprinted on a girl who had a boyfriend that she was absolutely in love with. This girl was in two of my classes, a great coincidence with the size of this school.

At some point in the past, a leech had been prowling around in her room. Even though I had estimated it to be three or so years past, it still worried me. Was Chrissy in danger? Had Chrissy been in danger? Could I have met her any earlier and kept her safe?

I flicked my eyes to the left, settling my eyes onto her face, where, if I had my way, they would stay for the rest of my life.


	4. Chapter 3

_ I flicked my eyes to the left, settling my eyes onto her face, where, if I had my way, they would stay for the rest of my life._

And stay there they did. She probably thought that I was mentally disturbed. Which I guess I was, according to normal people. It wasn't exactly _normal_ to turn into a giant wolf and hear voices in your head.

A day ago, I would have given anything to trade in my wolfy self, but now . . . Now, it was ticket to _Christina_.

"Miss Preston," the teacher said, making me sit up and take notice. That was _her_ name. "Could you tell me a main character from _Hamlet_?"

She straightened in her seat a little, stealing a glance at the book on her desk. "Uhh, Hamlet?"

"Thank you, Miss Preston. Can anybody tell me a famous quote from this play?" The Castle-woman eyeballed me, the sheer force of her stare pushing my hand into the air, slow-mo style.

"Mr Simmons?"

_Craaap._ Think, goddammit!

"Do you know the answer?"

"Uhh . . . No . . ." I muttered, very quietly.

"Anybody else? No? Yes, Miss Preston?

"To be or not to be."

Dear god. She was _clever_. I zoned out again as the teacher continued to ramble about themes and the significance of that particular line.

Then, I flicked a note across to her desk: _How do you know so much about Hamlet_?

"Now class," the teacher said, interrupting me _again_. I wasn't going to like this class very much. "Please read the ending again. I will be returning in one minute.

The second the door clicked shut, all restraints to civility broke loose. It was the last hour of school and the teacher had left the room. There was no point in obeying her.

"The notes are right here," Chrissy said suddenly, turning to look at me. "Castles has short term memory loss or something. She gave us these yesterday."

I grinned at her, not for any particular reason. Was this what imprinting was all about? I was walking on sunshine, even with the ridiculousness of my situation. I was in a classroom full of strangers, in a random school, on the opposite side of the country to all of my family, with nowhere to sleep at night and no way to eat, yet still I was the happiest and most optimistic I had ever been in my entire life.

"So, Chrissy?"

"Yeah?"

"What's up with Beatrice?" I asked, grasping at anything to talk to her about.

"Trixie is the real life version of any mean cheerleader cliché you've seen in a movie. I kid you not. She's a bitchy, stupid slut. Cal swears he saw her stashing a pack of pregnancy tests in her locker once." She peered sideways at me, looking for some kind of reaction.

"How does Caleb know what pregnancy tests look like?" I knew what they looked like, but that was because I was constantly running to the La Push drugstore for a worried Emily.

"Caleb is a hot-blooded male," she said carefully, turning to face me. "He is, following the cliché trend, a player. He's also a social reject because he has issues with conforming to peer expectations. Back to the test thing, he screws girls regularly. He's well-known in the local pharmacy because he's constantly buying condoms or pregnancy tests for his latest conquests. Such as Georgia, a librarian."

I squinted at her, trying to decide if she was being serious.

The bell shrieked and in almost two seconds flat, we were alone together.

"_Jay_-cob! You waited for me! Aren't you just the sweetest?!" It was Trixie. "We're going to be the hottest couple in the history of couples!"

"Look, about tha-" I began, only to be cut off.

"You know, Prom's in a few months."

I didn't say anything.

"Everyone knows that I have the most _fun_ on prom night. Do you want to have some _fun_ with me?"

I blinked. "Uhh, what?"

"But you'll _take_ me won't you?" Her eyes began to twitch. Was that supposed to be alluring?

"Actually, I'd rather no-"

"Excellent! We can plan more closer to the day!" And with that she flounced away, her shoes clacking.

"What just happened?" I said, shocked.

Chrissy spoke from beside me and I glanced at her amused expression. "You just got a date for prom."


	5. Chapter 4

I wandered absently out of the classroom after Chrissy. Of all the weird first days, mine had to top them all. Firstly, I'd imprinted. Secondly, I'd been like a girl magnet. Third, I'd got a date to prom. And I'd _imprinted_.

"Jacob," Chrissy began.

"Yeah, Chrissy?" I replied, tasting her name in my mouth.

"Do you want a ride home? Can Todd drop you off anywhere? He won't mind," she offered, all at once.

I was touched. She wanted to drive me home. Home. I used to call the Quileute Rez home. But now home was wherever _she_ was. And home was where I was planning on spending the night.

"Thanks for the offer, but no, I can walk. Or run," I mused. I hadn't run anywhere in a long time. Well, at least, not as a _human_.

"Okay, then, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, yes of course, I'll see you tomorrow," I replied, amused. _In fact, I'll see you tonight._

She waved and walked away from me.

I almost followed her, but quickly turned the other way. _Don't scare her. Don't scare her._

Heading towards the back entrance I slowed my speed. I needed to give her time to get to the beach before she discovered her dog there.

I went in the same direction that Chrissy had just left in.

"Jacob. We need to talk." I glanced at Caleb, who had fallen into step next to me.

"Yeah?"

He buried his hands in his pockets, then pulled them out again, fidgeting nervously. "You like Chrissy."

_What's the point in lying?_ "Yes. I like her."

Caleb stopped, and I turned to face him. "I'd appreciate if you left her alone. I've been working up to a relationship with Chris since we were fourteen, since I first _saw_ her."

I raised an eyebrow at him and tried not to laugh. Assuming that she was seventeen, that was almost three years. Three years and he still hadn't asked her out. What a freak.

"I know, it's a long time. It's just the way I met her. I don't want to scare her off, you know? I value being with her. Even if it's only as a friend. If we were to get together, and I took it too far, too fast, I'd scare her off, and never see her again."

"What did you do to her?!" I exclaimed. _Do not hurt the stupid boy._ "How traumatic _was_ it?!"

"I didn't do anything to her. I _saved_ her." He said, and I could have punched his perfectly straight nose in, right then and there. Dragging it out, much?

"From what? Or who?"

"It was summer camp. I'd been watching her for days. She was so beautiful. The way she moved, smiled, laughed. I was obsessed. I still am. But I'd been noticing others watching her too. There were three of them. Ethan was the worst. The way he looked at her . . . it was as if she was a piece of meat.

"Then one day, she left breakfast early. I figured that it was a good enough time to make my move, and introduce myself. I followed her, but was sidetracked by a camp councilor. He wanted me to help set up for the abseiling.

"By the time I got to her, the others had her up against the wall of the toilet block. One of them - I think it was Joey - had his tongue stuck down her throat, and another one was up her shirt-" Caleb abruptly stopped speaking; he closed his eyes and clenched his fists. I wanted to do the same.

"I pulled them off her. It was all I could do not to beat them to death. Then she looked at me, and she was so . . . happy, and grateful."

"I gather you got to introduce yourself then," I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. I liked this guy. He meant something to Chrissy, so I would do my damndest to be nice to him.

"Yes. I did. But do you understand now?"

"Yeah. I understand. You two have history."

Caleb grinned, apparently relieved at my answer. "So you won't . . . ask her out, or anything like that?"

_Only if she wants me to. You see, I'm not fully human. And I've imprinted on her. I'll do whatever the hell she needs me to do. _But how to break that to this lovesick puppy? "Listen, Caleb," I began apologetically. "I can't make any promises."

The blonde's face darkened.

"The second she wants me, I'm hers. I'd do anything for Chrissy. I've only known her one day but . . ." I trailed off, shrugging helplessly.

Caleb glowered at me, for a brief moment, then sighed. "I know what you mean. I can hardly blame you for that. I'm the same."

_Oh I really doubt that. I'm worse, pretty boy. Much worse._

"Well, uh, gotta run."

"Goodbye, Caleb." I called after him. There. No one could say I wasn't being friendly, now.

I headed into the trees at the side of the school's running track and began to run. I tried to keep to shadows and sheltered places that were out of sight. Normal humans couldn't run like this. There was something about the stride - it was too long and loping.

I stood in the shadow of a house, using most of my senses to search for any possible spectators. It was when I couldn't see, hear or smell anyone that I finally stripped and phased. Leaving the clothes in a tidy pile, I wandered out onto the sand. Tiny grains leaked between my toe pads.

Then I saw Caleb and a random boy strolling along the beach. I trotted in his direction. _Come on. Look up. You'll be able to see me now._

He looked up.

He saw me.

"Loch, can you see if you can grab it or something?"

The other one whistled. I didn't move. How degrading was _that_? A _whistle_? I wasn't some _dog_ that he could order around.

Then again, as far as they're concerned, I was. I pulled my lips back from my teeth momentarily, then ran up to him slowly. I even wagged my tail and let my tongue loll out.

Caleb slipped a red cellphone out of his pocket. He grinned and tapped at the number pad.

Then he looked at me and spoke to Lochlan. "Dude, what are we going to do with it? Is it even a dog? Check those teeth. But we can't leave it here. It can't go to mine . . . yours?"

Lochlan shook his head. "Do you think Chrissy will-?"

"Maybe."

_Yes! Yes, she will! Go on, ring her! Ring her now!_

He pressed a single button and held the phone up to his ear. "Chris, we picked up that dog again . . . at the beach. But, I'm not sure . . . if it's even a _dog_ . . ."

". . . four legs . . . coat . . . tail . . . bathroom." I heard her say.

"'Kay. Be there in . . . five?"

"Come on, boy." Lochlan said as they set off at a brisk pace.

"Loch?"

"Mmm?"

"I need some advice. Girl advice. It's about Chrissy . . ."

"No. I'm not going on another date with her. It's bad enough that she thinks I'm gay. I can't believe you managed to convince me to do that, Cal."

"Sorry. It's just . . . she liked you so much . . ."

"Shut up. I don't want to know what goes on in that sick head of yours." He tapped Caleb playfully on the head. "So, what do you want to know?"

"There's a new guy at school. He's in some of our classes. He _likes_ her. And I think she likes him. I can't handle it, Loch. What if they start dating? I'll have to be the thrilled best friend. I'll have to tell her how great she looks, that Jacob's going to love her. I'll have to take her dress shopping for prom so that she can look good for _a different guy_. God, I can't do it!"

"Chill, bro. It's easy. Ask her out. If she's yours, she can't be his. You know her. You know what she likes, what she doesn't. What makes her tick. It'll be a piece of cake."

I growled.

They were _manipulating_ her.


	6. Chapter 5

"Hey, Chris." Caleb said as he walked into her room.

"Chrissy," Lochlan said.

I ignored them both, and took the opportunity to look around her room. She had light, creamy carpet and a darker shade of cream on the walls. There was a golden chandelier hanging down in the center of the room; but it didn't seem like her type of decoration. Her furniture had a dark, polished wood theme and her bed was draped casually with a deep purple set of bedding.

"I see what you mean about 'not a dog' thing, Cal. He - it is a he, right? - He's huge! And check the teeth on him" Chrissy's golden voice penetrated my concentration. I melted. "And he's so handsome! What should we call him?"

"Tommy. After Edison," Lochlan suggested, winning an approving glance from Caleb. It was sickening the way that boy manipulated Chrissy to make him seem better.

"We could name him Freddie. After Freddie Mercury," Caleb said.

_Well it could have been worse._

"Uh, gotta shoot guys," Lochlan said uneasily from the doorway where he had stayed when the rest of us moved inside. "Places to go, boys to perve on . . ." He shot Caleb a hard look before wandering back towards the beach.

I could have sniggered, were I in human form. Most likely, that guy had a date with a girl from the mainland, who didn't know about his supposed sexuality.

"Um, well, it's kind of _late_," Chrissy said, shifting from side to side. "Either you're dropping . . . Freddie . . . and running, or you're crashing here the night again."

_Again_. Inferred that it had happened before.

"I'd much rather stick around here than go home and face the olds. Georgina turned into a stalker. If she's not texting or ringing my cell, she's phoning the main line or calling around the house." He shook his head. "I should have stayed away. You've heard of the sexy but clingy librarian." He moved into Chrissy's room and flopped over onto her floor, putting one hand over his forehead. "But she was different. She was a . . . funky, confident librarian. Not a low self-esteem, boring librarian. I actually _liked_ her."

"You shouldn't have come to the beach the other day."

"Yes, I should have. You're important, Chris. More important than any of the girls I've gone out with before."

I could have puked at the look on his face. He was milking her for all he was worth. She wasn't a cow.

Chrissy stroked my nose a little before leading me back into the white bathroom.

"Stay." Chrissy ordered me before shutting the door and turning back to the nutcase. "Bros before hos, Cal." She said impishly. I would have laughed if I could. For two reasons; the first was that it was funny to hear the slang coming out of her beautiful mouth; the second was because it was showing the creep exactly where he was on her list of dateable material. He was a bro. So he was low.

A long silence followed, in which I imagined all the things that could be happening outside the door. They could have left. They could be staring soppily into each other's eyes. They could even be-

No. Don't even think about that.

_Think about what? Jake?_

_Leave me alone, Embry. I'm happy here._

_ Jake, we're worried about you. Come home before Sam drags you back._

And leave Chrissy? Like that was going to happen.

_Chrissy? A girl? You can't leave the pack for a girl, Jake._

_ I can and I am! She isn't just a girl. She's-_

_ Don't get me wrong_, Embry said quickly. _Girls are important. Very important. But Sam WILL drag you back if that's the only way._

I'd like to see him try. I really would. Did he honestly think that it would work? That I wouldn't escape and come straight back?

_Sam's a fool, Embry. Tell him to leave me alone._

Obeying me as if I had been an alpha giving an order, Embry's consciousness faded away as he phased back into his human shape.

"I'm going to take a shower. You know the rules."

"When you're in the bathroom, I'm not. I must stay away from all of your belongings."

Then the door opened and closed; I was alone with Chrissy.

She hummed a snatch of a familiar song before tugging her shirt over her head. My eyes could have popped out.

This was like my own personal striptease. I squeezed my eyes shut as she reached for the clasp of her bra. It was too much for me to see that. Not that I didn't want to. I did. Chrissy was beautiful. It was more the dilemma of, w_ould she have minded you seeing? _And the truthful answer to that was: yes.

I waited until Chrissy was singing at the top of her lungs before I dared to look again. All I could see was a blurred olive-coloured shape through the foggy glass.

The scent of raspberries exploded in my nose. Mmm... Raspberries were so much nicer than strawberries. I was luxuriating in the aroma when I abruptly noticed the door of the shower swinging open. How had I missed the water turning off?

And then Chrissy was standing there in all of her beautiful wonder. I was frozen, unable to look away from her. She was _glorious_.

Chrissy sung another snatch of the song before calling out, "Cal!"

I heard him jump away from wherever he had been, before answering, "What?"

She eyed me up. "I can't move with this do-" she paused. 'Um … Freddie. . . in here. He's freaking _huge_. And besides," Chrissy wound a towel around herself, snapping me out of my sick reverie. "He's looking at me."

"You're shy because a wild animal is checking you out?" Caleb sighed, then spoke again, too low for Chrissy to hear. "Lucky mutt."

I looked Chrissy over again, despite my better judgement. The towel didn't really do much in the way of covering her up. It more . . . accentuated . . . what she was trying to hide.

"Cut it out!" She whispered forcefully, finally giving me the direct request that I needed. Even though it was good that she had told me to look away, I couldn't help but be sad that she was suspicious about me. I would never take advantage of her. Not that she could know that. I whimpered, letting my head fall to the floor, wishing I could explain to her.

My stare could have bored a hole in the blue tiles, avoiding seeing Chrissy in a half-dressed state. By the sounds of the rustling, she was literally throwing her clothes on.

When she wandered past me, towel in hand, I decided to follow - ignoring the fact that she'd tried to lock me in before - because I didn't trust the goddamn boy she had lying across her bed at that very moment.

But despite the fact that I was upset at his familiarity of her bedroom, Chrissy obviously wasn't, considering the fact that she barely even noticed where he was, instead making conversation about me.

"Cal, what exactly is _this_?" She asked, pointing at me with an unreadable expression.

"I Googled it," the sleaze said proudly, and I wanted to laugh. Google was hardly _difficult_ to use. "Wolf - but this one is harmless, I'm pretty sure. But probably hungry."

Harmless. Yes, I was harmless if I _wanted_ to be - which was generally all the time - but I was suddenly willing to make an exception for this godaweful jerk.

"Oh." Chrissy looked pensive for a fleeting moment, before a decisive set chased it off of her face. "Well, find him something from the fridge downstairs. A steak or something." She said in a commanding tone.

"A _s_teak? You would feed this huge _mutt _a steak. Chris, your cook buys the _best damn steak_ out there, and you want to waste it-"

Caleb cut off abruptly and was out the door of Chrissy's room in flash after she glared at him viciously, while dabbing delicately at the mass of dark blonde hair thrown over one shoulder.

Eventually it must have reached a satisfactory level of dryness, because she tossed the towel through the open door of her bathroom, where it slapped against the wall, leaving a clear patch in the condensation on the tiles.

Without flicking off the switch next to the power outlet, she plugged the cord of her silver hairdryer in. I winced as a tiny spark leapt between the two electrical components, narrowly missing the duvet edge.

The way Chrissy dried her hair was almost hypnotic. The way the shade of blonde lightened with each slow sweep; the way the locks steamed slightly; the way she was still humming breathily; the sureness of her actions.

When Caleb blocked my view of her, I could have gone for his throat right then and there. Who did he think he was, to hide her from me?

He pinched a thick, red chunk of meat between his fingertips, held distastefully away from his body. He wiggled it at Chrissy a bit, making her flinch away from the almost _dripping_, bloodied flesh.

Caleb whistled at me _again_. Goddammit, what kind of stupid animals were dogs to come running to _that_ sound, of all the idiotic noises he could have made?

I did have a role to play though, so I begrudgingly dragged myself towards the glass doors, where the steak had been coated in grit on one side. Stupid jerk.

As I gingerly nipped at the food, I pricked up an ear to monitor the situation indoors. It was weird, this imprinting thing. I didn't want this boy to hurt her, to contaminate her. I didn't want him to even touch her. Was this normal? If you could call turning into a giant wolf and becoming obsessed with some poor girl normal, that is.

I snapped out of my musings the second I heard Caleb's voice. "So, er," he said, trying to think of something to say. "What do you . . . think of the new kid?"

"He's okay, I guess," Chrissy answered softly, then suddenly yelled out loudly. "Yes, okay, I like him! Ow!"

She liked me. She _liked_ me! _She_ liked _me_!

"Sorry." He said it like a swearword. "Is it because . . . he's good looking? Or is something else?"

"I guess it's 'cos he's attractive." Chrissy answered after a short pause.

"A crush then." He said, sounding hopeful.

"Yeah, a crush." She said over the squeak of bedsprings and the hum of the dryer, which promptly stopped. The bed creaked again.

"Chrissy's got a boyfriend! Chrissy's got a boyfriend!" Caleb said in a sing-song tone. It reminded me of when I was a little kid, playing tag with Quil and Embry. _Em-bry's IT! Em-bry's IT!_

"Do not!" Chrissy said.

"Do too."

And then she was giggling hysterically. I swallowed my last bite and turned around to see Caleb lying half on top of Chrissy, his hand clasped around her neck, his face inches from hers.

I couldn't think properly, only take note of the proceedings in a way that a golf commentator might, except that my anger and frustration was bubbling viciously just under the surface.

He leaned forward a fraction and his - _dirty - _mouth brushed against Chrissy's for a few seconds. When she didn't respond _- yes! -_ he retreated slightly.

She whispered, only just loud enough for his _- deaf -_ ears to hear, "Georgina."

Georgina, I remembered, was Caleb's librarian. And only an hour or two ago, this - _sleazebag -_ boy had been confessing how much he actually liked the girl. How would he try and laugh that one off?

"She doesn't matter," he said, using what sounded to be a rehearsed line. "I _love_ you." He kissed her again, quickly. It reminded me of the way people pressed a stamp onto the letter they were about to chuck in the post, to make sure that it would get to its destination.

"Chris, I'm sorry. I . . ." Caleb sealed the deal, making a great show of feeling bad about taking advantage. "I shouldn't have."

He turned his back on her, managing to spark sympathy from Chrissy.

"Cal," she said gently, tangling her nimble fingers through his _- greasy -_ hair.

This time around, she was the one to initiate the kiss.

_Crap_.


	7. Chapter 6

I had been watching him all night. Like a hawk. No, not like a hawk. Hawks could be _lax_ for all I knew. I watched him like a werewolf watching his imprintee's boyfriend. He hadn't tried anything though. Luckily for him. If he had, I would have gone rabid canine on his ass and mauled that pretty boy's face.

Unless she was happy with him doing . . . whatever it was he would be doing to her. With her. I _really_ didn't want to think about them in specifics, or knowing my luck, I'd lose the contents of my stomach.

It was about four thirty in the morning now, and my brain was telling me that now was the time to turn human long enough to open the door and slip out into the night . . . Or into that guy's closet to steal some more clothes. It would most likely be a little suspect if I wore the same shirt and shorts every day.

With these thoughts in the front of my mind, I snuck out into the hallway (after pointedly ignoring the extreme awkwardness of me being in my birthday suit while Chrissy and Caleb were sleeping just two metres away. **(A/N: The equivalent of about 6.6 feet – according to my converter anyway)**

As the door clicked quietly shut, I heard Caleb grunt in his sleep before creeping out the other door onto the beach. Dang, if I had been just thirty seconds slower . . . I shuddered. How, exactly, I would have managed to talk myself out of _that_ one, was a mystery.

Chrissy had just arrived at school and was perched on the front sign. It now read "BALL HIG SCHOOL", because her legs were dangling over the H.

She had the two white earphones of an ipod drowning out the chatter of the people flowing past her into the school.

I - like some deranged stalker - was not-so-subtly staring at her, a fact that probably didn't escape her notice. What she was oblivious to though, was that pretty boy was also watching her. He was seated in the front passenger's seat of a shiny car, being given a pep talk by his not-so-gay friend.

"You kissed her, right?"

"Well, yeah. Were you not listening to me all the way from my place to here?"

"And she kissed you back." That was a statement, not a question and Caleb seemed to know it, sitting silently, waiting for the next wise announcement.

"Then it's simple. Ask her if she'll be your girlfriend, sweetheart, lover, inamorata, beau, significant other, shorty, main squeez-"

"I get it."

"Then get your skinny ass out there and lay claim to your girl! Go man!"

So he did. He was out of the car in a flash and swaggering smoothly up to Chrissy, sliding on a pair of black, designer sunglasses. That was quite pathetic. It was barely sunny at all yet, but the hunk of plastic seemed to up his 'cool factor'.

When he reached her, he grabbed her face with both hands and planted a kiss right on her mouth.

"It's a lovely morning, Chris!"

"What are you _doing_?" She hissed, not missing all of the gaping stares that they were receiving.

"Laying claim, Chris. Be my girl."

"What?!"

"I love you, Christina Amanda Preston. Be my girlfriend."

"What?!"

"Sweetheart?" Caleb said, loosing his nerve now. "Lover, significant other? My beau, my shorty, my inamorata?"

"I know what you mean," she said, rolling her eyes. "But do you mean becoming . . . official? Sticking to one girl, staying true, not womanizing and not going on multiple dates per night?"

"Yes." Caleb answered straight away with no hesitation.

"Well then . . . okay . . . boyfriend," she said, stressing the new title.

I didn't know how to feel. I'd imprinted on her. That had to mean something, right? But like I'd explained to Bella, imprinting wasn't always a romantic relationship. It was about making your girl happy. And she _was_ happy with him. But it still felt wrong. Imprinting was to secure the future of the pack, or to put it in animal terms, to ensure the next litter of puppies to bulk out the ranks.

And she was with another guy. It was like two sides of the imprinting penny. The only question was which way it would fall.

"Jakey!" A high-pitched voice said, grating on my ears. I winced.

"Beatrice."

"That's not my name, Jakey. I know that bitch may have, like, made you think that, but it's not true! _Beatrice_?! That name is so . . . like, uncool! Obviously it couldn't be mine."

"Whatever you say."

She pounced on me, snaking her skinny arms around my waist. "I _sooooo_ knew that you wouldn't, like, fall for her lies! Onto cooler things! Are you excited for prom?"

"Ecstatic."

"We're going to look so totally cool together!" She tugged on my hand pulling me towards our first class, that we unfortunately had together. "You know, I think that we're going to be prom queen and king this year!"

"I was going to be anyway," I said suddenly, remembering the expression on Embry's face as he bribed the girl in charge of the prom committee. "My friends rigged the votes, back at my last school. They thought it was hilarious that I'd have to wear that piece of crap, plastic crown."

"You had a prom coming up?"

"Obviously."

"We should, like, totally go and crash it! Make all your stupid, little old friends jealous of your totally hot new girlfriend!"

"Hold it!" I said, stopping. It was one thing for her to make a fool of herself, but completely another for her to assume a relationship with me. "You are _not_ my girlfriend. You will _never_ be my girlfriend. Hell, I don't even want to go to prom with you!"

Beatrice froze, her eyes flicking from side to side. Then a look of resolve crossed her face and she reached up to tap me on the nose. I flinched. "Now _someone's_ a little cranky today, Jakey! Did you get enough sleep last night, hot stuff?"

French had become my favourite subject, as of ten minutes ago, when Chrissy and Caleb had pointedly saved me from the evil clutches of Beatrice and repositioned my seat at the front of the classroom. Now I was sitting prominently on Chrissy's left side, while Caleb was on her right.

Admittedly, I was in no way a part of their conversation, but it was still just as good to be _near_ her. To hear her speak. To see her slap the pretty boy hard on the arm.

"That's just revolting, Cal!"

_Oh, yes he is._

"Now, today you're going to be revising the new vocab list," the teacher said from the front of the class, slurping loudly from a coffee cup. "But before that, you're going to need to know about our up and coming field trip. We'll be travelling to Houston to see some real french opera in action. You'll need to fill out a permission slip but no fees this time around. It's on the school. Hooray for government funding and all that jazz. Now open your textbooks to page one hundred and eleven . . ."

The amazing thing about the teacher was that everything he said was in one long monologue, his tone never moving up or down, just droning on and on; like a vacuum cleaner. It practically _encouraged_ you to fall asleep, especially when you hadn't got any the night before, due to a certain horny teenage boy sleeping right next to your imprintee.

"Do you want to pair up with us?" Chrissy's sweet voice penetrated my doom and gloom musings.

"Wha-? Yes. Of course," I said. "Wait, sorry, I wasn't listening. What for?"

"The project. That we need finished before we go to Houston. Cal thinks that we'll be able to polish it off in a couple of nights."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure, I'd love to. Thanks for asking," I heard myself burble. _Niiice._ Really smooth. "When's our first study group meeting?"

She bit her lip in the cutest way, obviously trying to decide what my reaction would be. "We were actually thinking, uh, this afternoon? Because Cal was coming over anyway and-"

"This afternoon's fine. When am I showing up?"

"We can give you a lift," Caleb said, his nose scrunching as he smiled slightly wider on the word 'we'. "But Chris is going to need her sugar fix of the week. Meaning we sit around awkwardly in Starbucks as she slurps at a bunch of chilled drinks."

I stared at her in shock. I'd thought that the Pretty Boy was exaggerating, but he really wasn't. Chrissy was matching me drink for drink. Somewhere after the fourth, she had looked at me with an indescribable glint in eye. We had an unspoken competition going; who could drink more. There were no prizes, but I was fairly sure that the winner got eternal bragging rights.

Having her mock me forever wasn't what I was worried about. It was what the pack would say when they found out that I was out-drunk by a girl. So it wasn't going to happen.

Pretty Boy sucked noisily on a straw. It was only his second. "Where do you guys put it all?" He said in wonder. "I mean, look at Jake. He's a giant, that's understandable. But Chris?! You're outdoing yourself this week. Keep in mind, you _did_ insist on paying for all of this. The more you drink, the higher your bill. And you _know_ that they have ridiculous prices here."

"Cal. Seriously," Chrissy gulped at something white and chocolatey. "Do you not remember what my last bank statement said? I can afford it."

"Huh. Yeah, I guess so," he said, then paused thoughtfully. "Does that mean if I wanted food you'd throw that on your tab too?"

She waved her hand impatiently, rolling her eyes. "Grab me another one of these, too. And another one of Jake's?"

"Yeah. I'm done with this one," I muttered, tossing back the last of it. It felt like I was doing a shot, except in a bigger glass and the liquid didn't have that distinctive burn. Also, if I were doing shots, I would have definitely suggested some extra salty body shots by now. **(A/N: Inspired by "Boycotts and Barflies" by vjgm - if you haven't already, read it.)**

"So, Jacob. Where did you shift here from? Your accent doesn't sound southern . . ."

"Unlike yours," I said, trying to deflect her from quizzing me too much. I wasn't going to lie to her, but I didn't want to tell her too much about that yet. It was pathetic really. I _could_ tell her that I was a werewolf. But '_I can morph into a giant dog at will. And I may have slept in your bedroom a couple of times'_ didn't exactly roll off your tongue. Also, the tiny romanticist in me wanted her to want me because she liked me, not because she felt compelled to entertain the mythical creature.

"I admit, I have a slight twang. It's not as bad as Cal's though. Stop avoiding my question."

"Washington. I'm from Washington state. I lived near the beach there too. It wasn't nearly as sunny though."

"A chilled beverage for my beautiful lady," Caleb said, shoving it on the table and leaning on to kiss her. I couldn't tear my gaze away. It was lingering and by the looks of it, extremely wet and just a little sloppy.

"Caleb?"

I looked around for the speaker. She was tall, her hair was long and shining and she had a pair of purple framed glasses balanced on her nose.

"Hey, Georgina." Caleb and Chrissy exchanged knowing glances and I thought back to yesterday's conversation.

_'Georgina turned into a stalker.'_

"Who's _that_?" the librarian asked, pointing on long-nailed finger at Chrissy.

"This is Chrissy, my girlfriend. Chris, this is Georgina."

"You two-timing _bastard_!" She snatched up my drink and in one flick of her wrist, threw it over Pretty Boy. I saw it in slow motion, the thick, pink fluid arcing gently towards his widening eyes. The first drop hit in the dead centre of his forehead.

Chrissy's mouth opened slightly and her head tilted a little to the right. Then she swiped her finger along his nose and tasted it.

"Oh, that's good. Can we get one of these to go?"

"Is that sort of thing normal? You didn't even blink when he got splattered," I said to Chrissy, watching her tap at her keyboard.

"Oh yeah. Don't you remember me telling you that he was a player? It used to happen all the time. My favourite has to be the plate of spaghetti. But that was all before they started realising that he was only in it for the short-term. After that it was more of an accomplishment. He's very picky. Once, in the locker room, Trixie just burst out with it. 'I screwed Caleb'. She was invited to three parties within ten minutes and the devil incarnate was born."

"Beatrice. You should call her Beatrice. I do," I said.

"Well you have the social standing to be able to do that. I don't. I am in the average at school. Just look where people sit. It seems very elementary school, but it's true. The cool kids sit at the back. The closer to the front, the more geeky you are. The more geeky you are, the more you get shoved into lockers and called names. Except for Cal. He's the one who doesn't follow the rules. He prefers to not associate with them, so he sits at the front. Also there's the fact that he's too good for them, so they reject him anyway. It's a hard world, Jacob. Life sucks and then you die."

_Yeah, I should be so lucky._ But god. It hurt that she thought that. I wanted to wrap her up in cotton wool and hide her in a cosy laundromat somewhere, and make her feel loved, wanted and know that life most certainly did not suck.

"Look, Chrissy," I began, looking deep into her eyes. They were beautiful eyes. Soft and sharp, all at the same time. "Life shouldn't suck for anybody, let alone somebody like you."

She leaned closer to me, but looked away from me. At that moment, her eyelashes seemed so impossibly long.

"You're a good person who deserves and will get a good life. There's someone out there for you who will make your life so worth all the crap times."

Her face drew closer to mine and I wanted to reach out stroke the side of her face, very gently, just to show her that I could be her somebody, if she wanted me to.

"Chris?" Caleb asked from the bathroom door. Our heads snapped simultaneously to him.

"Where's the shampoo?"


	8. Chapter 7

_ "Where's the shampoo?"_

"There should be some in the bottle," Chrissy said to him, her eyes traveling to his dripping wet chest.

"Chris. I love the way your hair smells, don't get me wrong, but I don't want to smell like a girl."

Her eyebrows raised and she spoke very slowly. "It's all I've got. So your options are like a girl or strawberry thickshake."

He tugged at his towel, looking annoyed and I struggled not to laugh at him. He looked very suddenly like a pouty toddler, shuffling back into the ensuite.

Chrissy turned back to me then and I felt stupid about my sappy speech.

Had I been too obvious about how Caleb might not be the best one for her?

"I'll just go now," I said, outlining a chain of interlocking hearts on he table. "See you tomorrow, Chrissy."

"Yeah. Bye, Jake."

"Hippolyte et Aricie was Jean-Philippe Rameau's first opera," I said, looking over my shoulder at Chrissy. The dim, yellow light threw sparkles into her hazel eyes, making them shine and seem darker then before.

"We know, Simmons," Caleb snapped. "We did the goddamn project together."

I frowned. He hadn't done anything on the project, other than type his name at the bottom with mine and Chrissy's.

"Look! It's starting," Chrissy said hastily, blocking my chance at retaliation.

I settled back into my chair, ignoring the way that Caleb slung his arm around her, the way she snuggled in close. I was jealous of him, that was for sure. Not of the way he was her boyfriend, but of how easy going he was around, so sure that he was the only one who had any claim over her, which was crap. I cared about her too. Chrissy was like my younger sister; I worried for her.

I winced at the note the performer on stage had just hit. It was unnaturally high, and painful to my ears. Unfortunately, she was getting progressively higher and louder, working her way up through the notes.

It was the type of noise where you expected a bunch of windows to crack and shatter. But they didn't. What she did achieve though, was to make me clutch at my ears, clamping my hands completely over them. The sound seemed to pierce my actual brain and it hurt like hell. I was certain that my eardrums were going to pop or something.

I couldn't take it any more and stood up suddenly, practically running towards the door.

It wasn't so bad outside. The building had been partially soundproofed and that dulled the sound of it considerably. But my head was still throbbing with a violent headache.

I sat down on the sidewalk, letting my head drop between my knees, counting the seconds as they passed. _One . . . two . . . three, four . . . five . . . six . . . seven . . . eight . . ._

"You okay, kid?" A man's voice said. "You look a little roughed up there."

"I'm fine," I replied. "Just a headache."

He was an old guy with in a long, dirty tan coat. Obviously, he was homeless and loving it. I'd always been able to understand that. To have no ties, to be free to do whatever the hell you wanted; I would love that too.

_Would_ have loved that. Now, I was more than happy to have a tie, a bond, whatever you wanted to call it. I was more than happy to have Chrissy.

And, I was only a little disgusted at the soppy, mushy mess that she was turning me into. None of the other guys had changed after imprinting, other than a slight priority rearranging. It was only me who had been turned upside down, twisted inside out and thrown into the middle of this mess.

"I saw you with that school group. You were looking at that girl – the blonde one – and she was looking at the blonde boy. I think your pains come from girl troubles."

"You're observant, for an old guy," I said, not really caring about how that might make him feel. I knew I should, but I really didn't.

"Yes, I am. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

He looked up from his hands, staring at me with penetrating blue eyes. "You tell me your problems, get them off your chest. I know nothing about your situation and will be able to comment from a completely neutral perspective."

I ignored him.

"Look, godammit," he hissed, springing at me, clutching my shirt collar in his fists. "My only child died a year ago today and I _need_ this distraction, okay?"

He wasn't scaring me, but I felt bad for the old guy. "Her name is Chrissy."

And so I told him everything, leaving out the parts about how I was really a mythical creature. He sat and listened, completely absorbed in my issues.

** I'm not sure of the actual notes and such of Hippolyte et Aricie, but it IS a real play/opera and it really was Jean-Philippe Rameau's first. Google it you're that curious.**

** If you haven't already, go read ****_Poughkeepsie_**** by ******

** Review?**

**Chris is staying in Houston with her MOM b/c her Mom is there (Why?) so she runs off to her hotel/Mom's apartment?**

** Jacob is just an idiot who "somehow" misses the school transport back to Galveston . . . she notices him laughing with a homeless guy and is all WTF ARE YOU DOING?!**

**Chapter ten:**

** And so he meets her Mom who promptly cuts his hair nice and short and hott - Taylor Lautner style. He also stays at the hotel/apartment with Chris while her Mom goes out to meet insert important name here like Jean-Pierre**

** They get to know one another while watching movies in the lounge part of wherever they're staying . . . **

**Zey kiss - MWAH. (****_(PROS - dramaaaaa . . . They'd have sexual tension between them which is fun to write . . . - She could get a hint that he isn't exactly human - aka his overwhelming heat . . . - TENSION . . . Every time they see said movie (which Cal HAPPENS to want to watch . . .) they feel guilty/blush hardcore. - tension - doubly awesome.))_**

** Momma walks in on-? Possible cliffie ending.**


	9. Future Excerpt 1

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine – some parts of this belong to SM, all bits from Breaking Dawn.**

**_CHAPTER ?:_**

"Kid, please don't even try this time. It won't work." Paul paused in his lecture. He said the same thing, every time it was his shift. "And besides. I'm sick of sponging blood off my shirts. And I can't even break _your_ nose. You're fast, kid. I'll give you that."

"Whatever." I stood there for a second, and then stalked into my room silently. Don't think about it. Simple.

As simple as not thinking about a purple orangutan.

I tried to listen to other sounds, the wind in the trees. It wasn't the same, not through human ears. There were a million voices in the wind that I couldn't hear in this body.

But these ears were sensitive enough. I could hear past the trees, to the road, the sounds of the cars coming around that last bend where you could finally see the beach - the vista of islands and the rocks and the big blue ocean stretching to the horizon. The La Push cops liked to hang out right around there. Tourists never noticed the reduced speed limit sign on the other side of the road.

I could hear the voices outside the souvenir shop on the beach. I could hear the cowbell clanging as the door opened and closed. I could hear Embry's mom at the cash register, printing out a receipt.

I could hear the tide raking across the beach rocks. I could hear the kids squeal as the icy water rushed in too fast for them to get out of the way. I could hear the moms complain about the wet clothes. And I could hear a familiar voice . . .

I was listening so hard that the sudden burst of Paul's donkey laugh made me jump half off the bed.

"Get out of my house," I grumbled. Knowing he was under strict orders not to. Following my own advice, I wrenched open my window and climbed out the back way. I'd see Leah, but at least I wouldn't have to talk to her.

I paced down to the shore, my fists in my pockets. Nobody looked at me twice when I went through the dirt lot by First Beach. That was one nice thing about summer - no one cared if you wore nothing but shorts.

I followed the familiar voice I'd heard and found Quil easy enough. He was on the south end of the crescent, avoiding the bigger part of the tourist crowd. He kept up a constant stream of warnings.

"Keep out of the water, Claire. C'mon. No, don't. Oh! _Nice_, kid. Seriously, do you want Emily to yell at me? I'm not bringing you back to the beach again if you don't - Oh yeah? Don't - ugh. You think that's funny, do you? Hah! Who's laughing now, huh?"

He had the giggling toddler by the ankle when I reached them. She had a bucket in one hand, and her jeans were drenched. He had a huge wet mark down the front of his t-shirt.

"Five bucks on the baby girl," I said.

"Hey, Jake."

Claire squealed and threw her bucket at Quil's knees. "Down, down!"

He set her carefully on her feet and she ran to me. She wrapped her arms around my leg.

"Unca Jay!"

"How's it going, Claire?"

She giggled. "Qwil _aaaaawl _wet now."

"I can see that. Where's your mama?"

"Gone, gone, gone," Claire sang, "Cwaire pway wid Qwil _aaaawl_ day. Cwaire nebber gowin home." She let go of me and ran to Quil. He scooped her up and slung her onto his shoulders.

"Sounds like somebody's hit the terrible twos."

"Threes actually." Quil corrected. "You missed the party. Princess theme. She made me wear a crown, and then Emily suggested they all try out her new play make-up on me."

"Wow, I'm _really_ sorry I wasn't around to see that."

"Don't worry, Emily has pictures. Actually, I look pretty hot."

"You're such a patsy."

Quil shrugged. "Claire had a great time. That was the point."

I nodded. Before I joined the ranks, it had been hard being around imprinted people. No matter what stage they were in - about to tie the knot like Sam or a much abused nanny like Quil - the peace and certainty they always radiated was downright puke-inducing. I wondered if I was like that. Probably not. Twenty-seven and a bit days away from Chrissy was enough to send me into a nervous wreck.

Claire squealed and pointed at the ground from Quil's shoulders. "Pity wock Qwil! For me, for me!"

"Which one, kiddo? The red one?"

"No wed!"

Quil dropped to his knees - Claire screamed and pulled his hair like a horse's reigns.

"This blue one?"

"No, no, no . . . " the little girl sang, thrilled with her new game.

Quil was having just as much fun as she was. He didn't have that face on that so many of the tourist dads and moms were wearing - the when-is-nap-time? face. You never saw a real parent so jazzed up to play whatever stupid kiddie sport their rugrat could think up. I'd seen Quil play peekaboo for an hour straight without getting bored.

And I couldn't even make fun of him for it - I envied him too much. Not, obviously, the peekaboo part. Not the Claire part. But just being able to spend an hour with _her_.

"Quil, you ever think about not seeing her? At all?"

"Huh?"

"No, no yewwo!" Claire crowed.

"You know. If it was probably better for her?"

Quil stared at me, his mouth hanging open. No, of course not.

"Pity wock! Pity wock!" Claire screamed when he didn't offer her another choice. She smacked him on the head with her little fist.

"Sorry, Claire-bear. How about this pretty purple one?"

"No," she giggled. "No poopoh."

"Give me a clue. I'm begging, kid."

Claire thought it over. "Gween." she finally said.

Quil stared at the rocks, studying them. He picked four rocks in different shades of green, and offered them to her.

"Did I get it?"

"Yay!"

"Which one?"

"_Aaaaawl_ ob dem!"

She cupped her hands and he poured the small rocks into them. She laughed and immediately clunked him on the head with them. He winced theatrically and then got to his feet and started walking back up toward the parking lot. Probably worried about her getting cold in her wet clothes. He was worse than any paranoid, overprotective mother.

"Sorry if I was being pushy before, man." I said.

"Naw, that's cool," Quil said. "It kind of took me by surprise is all. I hadn't thought about it."

"Impossible, right?"

"Well, yeah." Quil scratched his head. "But if it was she really wanted, and it was what she really needed, I guess. I dunno."

He didn't say anything else.

"But she would never want that, would she?" I guessed.

"I can't see it," he said in a low voice. "I can't imagine."

I looked at him significantly.

He hesitated a second and then said, "I believe you, Jake. But Sam . . . He won't listen."

Sam didn't seem to think that I had really imprinted on Chris. His argument was that I wasn't dedicated to her enough, that my devotion was too weak, therefore I couldn't have imprinted on her.

What he didn't understand was that she didn't want me to be a slave. She had picked up on my servile, fawning nature even when she didn't know that I was actually a creepy, mythical creature who had a creepy, mythical connection with her.

He didn't understand and thought that I had used an obsessive high school crush as a mockery of what the other guys had because I was still depressed over Bella choosing Edward. Like I cared about that. How could I care about that when Chrissy could be hurt? Car crashes, flu, gas leaks, another crazed high school killing, or that old vampire could return.

I shuddered at the thought.

Quil sighed.

Far away, too low for anyone but us two to hear it over the waves, a howl rose out of the forest.


	10. Future Excerpt 2

**er!**

**_CHAPTER ?: JACOB POV_**

"Dang. Speak of the devil." Quil said. His hands flew up to touch Claire, as if making sure she was still there. "I don't know where her mom's at!"

"I'll see what it is." I ventured cautiously. I had been assigned three chaperones a day, to ensure I didn't phase and disappear into the shrubbery. Of course, that didn't stop me trying. It hadn't worked so far. Not one of the attempts had seen me past the border of Washington State. The problem was that the more tired I got the more Sam's edict took over me until I caved.

Today was Paul - who was in my house, Quil, who stood uncertainly next to me, and Leah, who prowled around my house in wolf form. She would have already gone to see what was happening with Sam.

"Okay - get outta here, Jake!"

I took off running, not for the dirt path through the weedy hedge, but in the shortest line toward the forest. I hurdled the first line of driftwood and then ripped my way through the briars, still running. I felt the little tears as the thorns cut into my skin, but I ignored them. Their sting would be healed before I made the trees.

I cut behind the store and darted across the highway. Someone honked at me. Once in the safety of the trees, I ran faster, taking longer strides. People would stare if I was out in the open. Normal people couldn't run like this. Sometimes I thought it might be fun to enter a race - you know, like the Olympic trials or something. It would be cool to watch the expressions on those star athletes' faces when I blew by them. Only I was pretty sure the testing they did to make sure you weren't on steroids would probably turn up some really freaky crap in my blood.

As soon as I was in the true forest, unbound by roads or houses, I skidded to a stop and kicked my shorts off. With quick, practiced moves, I rolled them up and tied them to the leather cord around my ankle. As I was still pulling the ends tight, I started shifting. The fire trembled down my spine, throwing spasms out along my arms and legs. It only took a second. The heat flooded through me, and I felt the silent shimmer that made me something else. I threw my heavy paws against the matted earth and stretched my back in one long, rolling extension.

Phasing was very easy when I was centered like this. I didn't have issues with my temper anymore.

I drifted casually in the direction of Texas. To tell the truth, I had no real interest in what Sam's big announcement was. The only thing that mattered was getting back to Chrissy.

_JACOB. Come straight to us, _Sam ordered, in the strange double timbre. No member of the pack could disobey the Alpha. Even if the entire pack disagreed with what he had decreed.

_There's no point fighting it,_ Embry whispered.

That was true. I tried one last time, straining tentatively at the mental boundaries. It didn't work.

I resigned myself to meeting the rest of the pack.

_I hardly enjoy sitting outside your window while you sulk, _Leah thought._ So self-absorbed all the time. _

_ Yeah, no hypocrisy there, Leah,_ I thought back.

_Where's Quil and Jared?_ Sam demanded abruptly.

_Quil's got Claire. He's taking her to the Clearwaters'._

_ Good. Sue will take her._

_ Jared was going to Kim's,_ Embry thought._ Good chance he didn't hear you._

There was a low grumble through the pack. I moaned along with them. When Jared finally showed up, no doubt he'd still be thinking about Kim. And nobody wanted a replay of what they were up to right now.

Sam sat back on his haunches and let another howl rip into the air. It was an order and a signal in one.

The pack was gathered a few miles east of where I was. I loped through the thick forest toward them. Leah, Embry and Paul were all working in toward them, too. Leah was close - soon I could hear her footfalls not far into the woods. We continued in a parallel line, choosing not to run together.

_Well, we're not waiting all day for him. He'll just have to catch up later._

_ 'Sup, boss?_ Paul wanted to know.

_We need to talk. Something's happened._

I felt Sam's thoughts flicker to me - and not just Sam's, but Seth's and Collin's and Brady's as well. Collin and Brady - the new kids - had been running patrol with Sam today, so they would know whatever he knew. I didn't know why Seth was already out there, and in the know. It wasn't his turn.

_Seth, tell them what you heard._

I sped up, wanting to be there. I heard Leah move faster, too. She hated being outrun. Being fastest was the only edge she claimed.

_Claim _this,_ moron,_ she hissed, and then she really kicked into gear. I dug my nails into the loam and shot myself forward.

Sam growled. _Jake, Leah. Cut it. Seth?_

Neither of us slowed.

_Charlie called around till he found Billy at my house._

_ Yeah, I talked to him,_ Paul added.

I felt a jolt go through me as Seth thought Charlie's name. I had barely thought about Charlie or Bella or Edward since I met Chrissy. I was practically an invalid around her. Entranced by her smile; her laugh; the light, horizontal creases across her forehead when she was concentrating.

_So he's all flipped out. Guess he went to see Edward and Bella the other day. She was so excited to see him that she jumped on him before Edward pulled her off. Apparently they never stopped touching the entire time he was there. He said that they were like those stereotypical newlyweds._

The mental silence when Seth finished was profound. We all understood.

_What we need,_ Sam said. _Is for someone to go check this out. Bella's obviously a vampire now, but our problem now is whether or not we let it slide. We need to evaluate the situation. Seth? _

Leah and I entered the clearing at the nearly the same time. She was sure that her nose led the way, though. She dropped to her haunches while I trotted forward to stand at Sam's right hand. Paul circled and made room for me in my place.

_Can I go too?_ I asked suddenly.

Sam's voice was that of the Alpha. The only way he ever spoke to me now. It was almost as if he was afraid that his orders would fade off if he didn't reinstate them often enough. _Fine. Go to the Cullen house. Find out what's happening. Then come back here._

I turned on my tail and sprinted for the Cullen mansion. Behind me, I heard comments exploding from the others.

_Are you sure Jake's the right one? _Embry said, worried.

_ You know what he was like about Bella._ Brady told Sam. That boy was on the dim side. I didn't give a damn what Bella chose to do with her mortality now.

The soft impact of big paws against the ground followed me.

_Wait up, Jake. My legs aren't as long as yours. _

I let my paces grow shorter. I started to think about exactly what I was going to do now. March in through the door and . . . and what, exactly? Listen, Bella. I'm here for the pack. Tell us you're not gonna slaughter the townsfolk and we're gone. And by the way, I don't love you anymore. I've imprinted on a girl called Christina Amanda Preston.

_Nice, Jake. That'll go down well._

I ignored him. Knowing they would hear us coming, human or wolf, I stopped suddenly and phased. I tugged on my shorts again.

"Hurry up, Seth."

"Yeah, coming." He stumbled as he tried to catch up to me while getting dressed.

Seth grabbed my shoulder. "Hey, we're together here, Jake. Don't walk in front."

"Sorry." I took one big gulp of putrid air and leaped up the porch stairs in one bound.

The doorway opened before my fist touched it, and the doctor stood in the frame, his eyes grave.

"Hello, Jacob," he said, calmer than I would have expected. "How are you?"

"Uh. Okay, I guess." I took a deep breath through my mouth. The reek pouring through the door was overpowering.

"And you, Seth?"

"Great!" He chorused.

"Er, Jacob, it's not really the best time." The doctor seemed uncomfortable.

"Come in, please, Jacob," a musical voice asked. It wasn't very familiar.

Carlisle's eyes tightened.

I wondered if Bella was thirsty. My eyes narrowed, too.

"Excuse me," I said to the doctor as I stepped around him. It was hard - it went against all my instincts to turn my back to one of them. Not impossible, though. "C'mon, Seth."

Then I saw Bella. She was one of them now, definitely. If her white skin, graceful pose on the stairs and new voice didn't tell me that, the crimson eyes did.

"Bells, you're a freak show." I wrinkled my nose as I drew nearer. "And you stink."

"Thanks." She chimed, frowning and then clearing her face, so quickly I could hardly believe it had happened. "Hi Seth!"

"Hi Bella." Seth turned to me. "You wanna make your speech or should I?"

"What-?"

"Listen, Bella." Seth said. "I'm here for the pack. Tell us you're not gonna slaughter the townsfolk and we're gone."

"What?" Bella asked.

"Well, yeah. It might not have been the best speech, but it got straight to the point."

"Hold it." I interrupted. "Why am I feeling entirely left out here? Firstly, kid, I was being freaking _sarcastic_. And Bella, seriously, what's up with your newborn status? You might think that Charlie should be your first choice for a tasty-smelling snack, but I don't."

She sounded unimpressed. "Snack."

"And by the way, I don't lo-" I clamped a hand over Seth's mouth as he carried on.

"What?" Bella snapped.

"Nothing. So, what's going on?"

I watched her indecision. "Edward," she finally said.

Then he was standing next to her in all of his charming beauty. A leech-hater I may be, but I could admit to him being a pretty bugger. That was one of the things that I hated about the parasites.

"Really, Jacob. Your wording leaves much to be desired."

"Bella?" I said, ignoring him.

"We went on our honeymoon." She stared into Edward's eyes momentarily, softening. Gross. Thinking about _that_ was worse than _seeing_ Jared and Kim. It was a contrast with his taut jawline. Weird, considering the whole marriage thing was his idea.

"And he didn't kill you? Nice going, Eddy."

"We decided that the change might go better on Isle Esme, rather than here, so Edward bit me." Bella shrugged her hair off her neck to show the pale, silvery scar. Looking at it, I had a sudden mental image of Edward leaning down to press his lips to her throat, then sink his teeth slowly into her soft flesh.

"How long _was_ your honeymoon? It's been months since the wedding."

"We got back last week. But I was changed a month before that."

"Bella, love." Edward said suddenly. "I think Jacob has something important to tell you."

I planted my feet firmly apart and folded my arms. "What's going on, leech?"

"Seth just thought something very interesting. Something about happy endings. With everyone ending up with their soul mate. Care to tell Bella about _Christina?_" His voice was deadly, velvet.

I spotted the small female and the blond male circling the edge of the room, sights fixed on Bella, who was alternating between staring at me and Seth. Then she fixed on me, wearing a mixed expression.

I ignored her. "I don't have to tell you anything."

"Christina. Or isn't she important enough to merit a description?" Edward said.

"She likes to be called Chrissy. But Jake and Caleb call her Chris. Caleb is Chrissy's boyfriend."

Nice, Seth. That's going to go down well. Jacob the girl-stealer in another love triangle. Just kill me now.

"Bella might."

"What did I do?" I asked, sincerely confused.

"Blood." He whispered. "It smells repulsive, feral. But it's flowing, and it would be so easy to ..." He leaned forward.

I was aware, then, of the heat oozing down my fingers. The cut - inflicted by my fingernails as I furiously clenched my fists in order to not lunge for the leech's throat as he blatantly slandered Chrissy - had already healed, but a single drop of blood had escaped my flesh. It spattered onto the ground. Oh, great. Bleeding in a house of vampires.

"Seth. Get out of here. You've seen that she's fine. That's all Sam wanted."

He frowned and stepped cautiously towards the door.

"Go, Seth!" I yelled, and to my great relief, he ran. "Bells? You're not going to kill me. I'd make you physically sick with all these unnatural toxins in my blood. Just cool it so that we can talk. Hell, I'll even tell you about Chris."


	11. Future Excerpt 3

**er!**

**_CHAPTER ?: CHRISSY POV_**

'Anyone want to ski back down with me?' Caleb asked excitedly. 'The weather's turning crap, now is the last chance before we go back home.'

One by one, the rest of my group agreed. Except for me.

'I'll just, um, meet you at the bottom.' I muttered quietly, as they all trudged stiffly away.

They all looked impressive, in matching ski pants, jackets, goggles and gloves, hired skis slung casually over one shoulder. Together. Companions in the art of snow sports. I _really_ didn't fit in here.

I approached the whine of the ski lift, lifting my feet high out of the snow. I had learned that particular trick early on. Dragging your feet could lead to tripping, whether that was over your own feet, a partially covered rock, or the icy substance itself.

Metallic structures moved steadily past, suspended from the thick wire cable. I picked one at random, sliding into place on the seat. I obeyed the sign, tucking my poles securely under my armpit, and pulled my goggles back down over my eyes, colouring the world orange, until my vision adjusted. Then I reached up tugging at the frosted security bar before my ride left the shelter.

It should have slid down smoothly, gliding over oiled hinges, like a skier glided over snow. But it didn't. It jerked, screeching in protest, determined to remain. A little like me attempting to ski. I could just make out the rusted, pitted metal.

I would just have to do it without the rail. Easy. Other people did it all the time. Admittedly not in 60 mile an hour winds, but that was nothing. I clutched at the armrests.

The chair rocked alarmingly as I was hit by a blast of frigid air. Ionly had to last another fifteen or so minutes without falling off. Not long.

The wind buffeted me turbulently, and to my horror, the natural inclination of the mountain kicked in and I slipped. It was only a fraction of an inch, but that was enough to send me into an unbridled panic. I clawed desperately at the slick slats on my seat, somehow in the process pushing my body further over the edge.

I dangled for a few seconds, then my bulky gloves lost their grip. I should have dropped then, but I didn't. The material of my pants caught on a jutting piece of metal. The agonising sound of fibres separating was thankfully whisked away on the wind. Surprise penetrated briefly through my blind fear.

I fell awkwardly, all my limbs stretched out, grasping urgently for any handhold to slow my descent. I fell too fast; all I could see was a blurring, dirty-white suddenly rushing past me. I fell for too long, almost wistful for the solid ground below.

And then it came. Hard. Firm. Unyielding. So much for soft, fluffy snow. Everything went black.

It was cold. Biting at my ears, nose, fingers. Chilling my arms, head and body to the very core.

I groaned as I ran my eyes over the parts of myself that I couldn't feel. The left leg twisted around and up, so that my ankle was positioned next to my waist. The right was drooped lightly ontop of the left knee. It also appeared that I was looking up at the mangled tangle. Both skis, still strapped securely to my feet, were pointing into the sky like flagless, flat flagpoles.

'I fell off a freaking chair lift.' I mumbled. 'And now I'm stuck on the side of a mountain with blood rushing to my head.'

Great. "It will be fun!" Caleb had said as he scrawled my name on the list with his. Fun. For someone who had any degree of skill at skiing.

'Like Caleb.' I added aloud. 'He looks like an avenging angel.'

I pictured him, marvelling again that he was mine. In my memory, his knees bent slightly, and he leaned forward into the breeze. His scarf flapped loosely behind him, and his ski tips skimmed effortlessly towards one another, then out again, as he decelerated, and picked up speed again. The thin ends of his hair ruffled where they poked from beneath his beanie.

'Procrastination.' I told myself sternly. This was no test, where the greatest repercussion would be a tutor over the summer holidays.

I twitched my foot experimentally. Thankfully, it moved. Attempting something with a few more results, I tried hoisting my right leg back to where it belonged. It went. Deciding to ditch the skis, I fumbled at the catch, pressing weakly at the lever.

'Or not.' It helped to hear my voice. It reminded me that I was still alive, that I needed to stay alive.

I rolled onto my stomach, and my left leg popped out and dropped next to my right. Noticing a searing chill against my thigh, I glanced down, remembering the ripping sensation as I tumbled from the seat.

There was a tear in my pants. It travelled from hip to ankle, and the only layer I had protecting my leg from frostbite and my modesty, was a saturated layer of black polypropelene.

'How convenient.' I said sarcastically, as I flopped around, reminded of a fish out of water.

I wiggled forward a few yards in a commando crawl, then collapsed exhaustedly. The atmosphere seemed to be sapping my strength along with my heat. A shudder ran down my body. How had I managed to ignore those for the last day? No wonder I was always falling over on flat surfaces, before I even reached the slopes.

'I'll have a little breather. Five minutes. Then I'll get going again.' I lay my head in the snow.

Thoughts flitted through my mind. Memories.

The usual important dates were the opening Act. My mother's first award ceremony, when I was seven. The first time I met my father, when I was nine. The first time I met Caleb, when I was fourteen. Mine and Caleb's first kiss, three months ago.

Then a new face entered. A handsome, russet-skinned face with friendly black eyes. Jacob. Black, not Simmons. He had been dragged off a month ago, by five mysterious giants. Sam, Embry, Quil, Paul and Seth. He had said he didn't have a girlfriend. But they had told story about a girl called Bella. I wondered what must be wrong with her brain, to turn down Jacob. Or what was so amazing about the Edward she had chosen instead.

I had decided last week, that everything was this mysterious Bella's fault. If only she had chosen Jacob over Edward, Jacob wouldn't have come to Galveston Island. I could have spent my months with Caleb alone, rather than with Jacob _and_ Caleb. And then Caleb wouldn't have felt the need to comfort me when Jacob left.

'And I wouldn't have come on this stupid ski trip.' I concluded.

A snow flake landed on the navy of my glove. I slanted my finger in different directions, catching the glittering ball in the failing light. There were several balls, I observed. They were melded together, and when I looked closely, I could see each join, through the clear crystals.

I imagined thousands of the little spheres covering me. I could almost see in my minds eye, the pretty joins making an arch over my still form, where I could look at them.

The snow was slow in falling. I could feel the weight gradually building up. I closed my heavy eyelids and let my head tilt to one side.

It was peaceful. All my other experiences of the snow were loud yells of encouragement, or noisy screams when snowballs hit classmates in the back. This was different. Serene.

Even the snuffling, and whimpering that had just started up fit in with my current mood. The pressure over my back disappeared in a brief moment. It tickled.

A spasm - partially from the cold, and partially an attempt to laugh - ran through my body, and the feeling receded.

A while passed.

'Chrissy?' A husky voice said softly. 'Chrissy, can you hear me?'

'Mmmm.' I breathed. And then hands squeezing around my waist; vertigo as I swept through the air, now standing up the right way. And then nothing.

~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!

Before I opened my eyes, I was fully conscious. I was lying on my side, my back pressed comfortingly against something toasty.

There were two hot iron shackles around my body. One looped under my waist and up to my hip, holding me tightly against the heat. The other manacle wound from on top of me, curved around my chest.

My ears were straining for any sound other then what was normal to me. Ie: my own breathing and the depressingly loud thudding of my heart as I woke up. There was another steady breath next to my right ear. In. Out. In. Out.

So I was in someone's warm embrace. Presumably they had come to look for me once they realised I wasn't with the rest of the group. And the only person who actually liked me and wouldn't be thrashed to a pulp for daring to touch me was Caleb himself, the one who would do the thrashing.

Pleased with this explanation, I sighed, and rolled over, snuggling my nose into his chest.

'Chrissy?' He said carefully.

'You sound different. You got a cold?' I slurred.

'No.'

'Hmmm.' I mused. Maybe my ears had an infection or something.

'Chrissy.' His hand cupped my chin, in the process leaving my shoulders bare. I trembled, then froze.

'Where are my clothes?' I finally snuck a look at his face. 'What the hell-? What are you-? My clothes-! God!'

Scrabbling at his unwavering clasp didn't work to start with. It wasn't until I began to hyperventilate that he reluctantly let go and I flung my entire weight away from him. I noted with divided emotions the clothing that still covered my skin. Relief at the pink-striped polypropelene and underclothes. Horror at the lack of everything else.

'Jacob! What the _hell_? Where am I? What are you doing here? What the _hell_?'

He passed me the sleeping bag that had been draped over our two figures and I flinched away.

'S-stay over th-there.' I stuttered, wrapping it around me, shivering again. It was strangely cold away from him. 'Now t-tell me what's g-going on.'

'I . . . ran away from home. So I went to Galveston and they said you'd gone skiing. So I went to your lodge, and they were sending out a search party as soon as the weather cleared. But I was worried. So I came out straight away.'

That couldn't be all. I looked at him witheringly. 'D-details.'

'Promise you won't run away if I tell you?'

'Fine.'

He looked at his palms. 'I guess the best way to explain is to start at the beginning.' He looked up, looking for confirmation.

I nodded. 'W-wait.' I crawled back to him, gasping when I touched his burning skin. Either he had a fever, or I was extremely cold.

'Okay, go.'

When Jacob spoke, his tone was deliberate, somehow emanating nobility and dignity. He was telling me a story about the Quileute tribe.

It was fascinating, filled with various mythical creatures, and superstition, and betrayal, and the lives of ancient people.

'Eventually no more of the generations could turn into a wolf.' He stopped again, sliding his eyes closed.

'Keep going.' I encouraged. 'I don't see how this has anything to do with anything, but it's interesting.'

'No more of the generations could turn into a wolf. Until now.' He finally opened his eyes and looked down at me. 'My generation has discovered the ability, and there's a pack in La Push again. Just like the ancient times.'

'So what're you trying to say? You turn into a giant wolf?'

'Yes.'

The idea was troubling. And obviously not true. 'And I'm a cold one.' I rolled my eyes.

Jacob's eyebrows knitted together. 'Trust me, you're not.'

'No. Really, I am. Look at my fangs.' I grinned at him.

'No. Really, you're not. Look at your skin, your eyes. You have heartbeat. You're warm. You smell nice. You are not a vampire.'

I went down his checklist.

Skin: tanned.

Eyes: Green.

Heartbeat: I felt my pulse; fairly normal.

Warm: a matter of opinion.

Smell nice: possibly. But probably not right now.

'Firstly,' I replied, 'Are you trying to tell me vampires really exist?And what do they look like?'

'Yes. They exist. Their skin is white and ice-cold; their eyes are red or gold, depending on what type of blood they drink; they don't have a heartbeat; they smell awful.' He looked at me seriously. 'Well, I guess they'd smell good to you. It's all part of the predator-prey thing. Everything about a vampire draws people in. Their voice, face, smell, everything.'

'Okay. Well, that's just a little bit scary. So, why did you come back?'

'I came back for you, Chris.' His tone was soft and gentle.


	12. Outtake: Chapter 1: Chrissy POV

**_Chrissy POV:_**

It was hot on Galveston Island. On second thoughts, actually, hot would be an understatement. A more accurate description might include words like 'blistering', 'searing' or 'oppressive'.

But that was irrelevant right now. As per usual, right at a key point in my life, I was thinking about anything other than what I was supposed to be. This, procrastination - as you might want to call it - was a serious illness. It was ruining my chances of surviving life after high school. For instance, I had failed my algebra exam because of the persistent thought in my head at the time.

I had been wondering what it would be like to kiss a boy. All the cheerleaders in my class discussed who they had hooked up with the night before, in my first class. Every day. In every week. Of every month. The whole year around since we were twelve. As a non-geek, yet non-'popular', I sat in the middle of the classroom, dutifully scorning the freaks in front of me, and worshipping those behind. Part of this 'worshipping' business, included hanging off of their every word, memorizing details about their lives, in case I was spoken to. So I had learned quite a bit about how a real man should kiss you. He should be gentle, but intense; hold you tight, as though he wanted to occupy the same space as you; leave you struggling for breath, but in a good way; and lastly, but most importantly, - as the girls all agreed, the it was the pivotal point of how the kiss would be rated - was when he stopped. Too soon, and he must be homosexual. Too late, and he was a womanizing pig. The perfect place to break off - with an apparently essential sigh - must be where he clearly wanted you, but respected you too much to continue. So it's quite easy to see how I was wondering. Because even though I'd heard all about it, I'd never experienced an occurrence of that kind. At the time, of course, I should have been working out the values of x, y and z.

This time around, I was rehearsing my dance examination piece. I was proud of this one. Mrs Moulter had hated it the most, out of three possibilities. The old witch was determined to make me fail, so the best had obviously been her least favourite. The routine was ballet, but with spunk. Jazzy ballet. Not jazz ballet, but close. I had managed to include some moves of the modern day, hip-hop, into it. A little chest pop here, grapevine there, all perfectly in sync with the upbeat remixes of Mozart's Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, a masterpiece of Caleb's.

Caleb was my best friend. My 'boyfriend', fellows from my social level, were fond of saying, even though it was completely untrue. There was no spark between us, much to his dislike. He would have loved to love me. When I think of it, I would have loved to love him. But neither of us cared for the other, at least, not in _that_ way. He was just my friend. My unbelievably hot friend. He had blue eyes, blonde hair and a great tan. But then again, was there anyone who didn't have a tan in Galveston? I certainly did, although mine often manifested in the form of harsh sunburn first.

Caleb was a Musician. The kind of guy that other guys hated, because not only could they write serenades, but could also impress girls with their appearance. It was his expert hand that had pushed the switches up and down in the appropriate places to blend the perfect tempo that was blaring over my stereo.

I finally gave up, shoving in the direction of the off button. The CD whirred to a slow halt, disappointed in my lack of diligence. It wasn't the only one.

I skipped lightly down the stairs, straight to the phone. I punched in a number, from memory. It wasn't like I called anyone else.

"Yeah, hi Chris. What's up?" Caleb sounded surly.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

"Nah." He laughed. "Nothing _important_."

I knew straight away, from past experience, what exactly, I had just interrupted. "Jeez, Cal! Not another one! You've got to stop letting these girls think they have a chance!"

"Well it's not hurting them, definitely not hurting me …" I imagined his smirk. "A win-win situation. You wanna do something?"

"How did you know? But you can't come anyway. After that last savage trying to rip out my hair, I'm not going to draw you away from another date."

He snorted. "Georgina isn't like that, Chrissy. I picked her up in the library. She's a geek with a damn hot body."

"I'm not your substitute to snigger at girls with, Cal." I reminded him frostily. This wasn't the first time he'd tried that. He'd made up for it later though, sending me out to meet one of his Musician friends. Nothing had come out of that; except for me helping Lochlan to realize he was attracted to boys. Not the best thing for your self-esteem, turning people gay.

"Nah she's leaving anyway. You wanna meet up at the beach? Caleb answered, ignoring my statement.

"See you there, Cal."

I slipped the phone back onto its stand with one hand, reaching for a piece of artfully yellowed paper and a pen with the other. Mom always said that you could judge how wealthy a person was the type of notepaper they had next to the phone. And since she was filthy rich, ours was probably the most ostentatious around.

_ Mum, Gone out with Caleb. Be back later. Love Chrissy._

I scrawled hastily, pinning it to the silver-framed corkboard with a green pin. The colour of the pin was important. Mom had a strange fixation that I would be forced into some kind of hostage scenario. A green pin signified that all was fine, normal. Red meant call the cops right now. Yellow was in the middle. But with yellow pins I was expected back home by nine, otherwise I didn't have a curfew. And the same went for her, although her yellow pin time was eleven. Dad didn't even need a pin system. He didn't live with us. And when he did, he came and went as he pleased.

I made myself walk slowly out the French doors. Slowly down the path. Slowly across the sand. Until I saw Caleb's tall shape silhouetted ahead. I broke into a sprint, my arms flashing golden in the sunlight, muscles hardened by a summer of vicious beach volleyball. It was stupid and cliché, but I hadn't seen him in over a week; so I flung myself at him and he swung me around in a circle, my legs flopping like a rag doll.

He set me down and appraised me up and down.

"Did Amanda overhaul your wardrobe again?"

I scowled, nodding. Mum had a tendency to throw out all my clothes every three or so months, replacing them with the latest fashions. Today I was wearing red and white, like some crazed High School Musical fan.

"I think I like the new trend. You want another go with Lochlan? He might change his mind when he sees you like this!"

"Not a chance." I shook my head. "He's in love with you. Or more your body. No-one could like you for your personality."

Caleb nudged me lightly in the arm with his fist.

I whacked him as hard as I could in his firm stomach.

"Nothing yet. You need to ball your fist like this …"

A piercing trill cracked through the peaceful silence in my room. I grabbed at my cellphone.

"Caleb it's one in the morning, what the hell-"

He cut me off. "Dog. Big one. Found it on the beach. Can he stay in your bathroom for a couple of days?"

Of all the things he could have asked me, it had been about my one weakness.

"Yes, of course, I'll open the deck doors." I slipped over and unlatched the catch. Snapping the phone shut, I curled up next the ornamental oaken headboard of my bed, yawning profusely, waiting for Caleb's new friend to arrive.

Oh, _crap_.

I hit speed dial number 5. It was in the middle of the keypad, and the most easily accessed out of all the other numbers.

"Caleb! The dog is gone! _Gone_. It's almost as if it grew hands and opened the door!"

"Jeez. How the hell did that happen? He was shut in your bathroom!"

"Sorry Cal."

"Chrissy, I don't blame you." Silence. "See you at school, eh?"

I trudged wearily into my classroom, preparing myself for the upcoming lecture on being late, and another session of Oh-my-god-how-much-tongue-did-he-use?

I plopped into my seat, exchanging a quick smile with Caleb, who resided at the front. He would have lived at the back, were it not for his despised status among his own gender.

"I'm Trixie, so where did you move here from, Jacob?" Trixie, the queen bitch was using the breathless voice she obviously thought was sexy and flirtatious.

"Uh, around." The deep, husky reply wasn't familiar. A new kid.

I swivelled in my seat, as was expected, to ogle the newcomer. I was taken aback to spot a huge native american plonked in the middle of a gaggle of giggling, hair-twirling girls.

I obligingly studied his features as per the new kid checklist required. He had high cheekbones, and a slightly squared off jaw. His skin was an exquisite russet colour and framed by dishevelled hair, which grew to his chin. It seemed as though with a decent wash and brush it would spruce up into a shining imitation of black satin curtains.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Trixie laughed, a high, nasally sound. Every girl in the room was still as they waited with baited breath, for the answer that would define the limitations of who could speak to this beautiful creature. I watched as his friendly black eyes tightened.

"No."

Only those in the back two rows would dare communicate with him now.

"All the more time you can spend with _me_ then! You lucky boy!"

I snorted. Yeah. Lucky.

"Do you want to say something? _Christina_?" Trixie sneered, knowing that I wouldn't risk a year of petty games and jibes, merely to insult her in front of a dazzling boy.

I pivoted to stare at her. "No, Beatrice, I don't." I'd timed it ideally, because at that moment, Monsieur Bateman, our French teacher, entered the room.

"Class, I have a meeting at my son's primary school, this is now a free period."

I skipped up to Caleb. "Come _on_. If we don't get out of here fast enough that furious army from the back row is going to _slaughter_ me."

He chuckled, resting one hand on my arm. "Sure thing. What'd you do to them?"

"Beatrice got on my nerves."

His eyes widened. "Hell, you're in for it!" He slithered his hand down to my wrist, and tugged me out the door.

"What's with the touchy-feely stuff?" I questioned.

"The new guy - Jacob? - was checking you out. And if you got yourself a bloke you wouldn't need me, now would you?" Caleb answered in a rush, apparently because we were still running towards the free use gym. But I knew that he didn't really like the whole tell-me-how-you-feel psycho-analysis crap.

"Fair enough," I said carefully, wanting to keep him happy. We entered the large, cool room. "What do you wanna do? Volleyball?"

"Neither. I want to see your so-called work of genius. I worked hard on that music, and I doubt the great Amadeus Mozart would approve, so I want to see what it was for." He shoved me towards the center of the floor with the palm of his hand in the small of my back, already dragging a yellow CD case out of his bag.

I raised my arms in the theatrical opening position, deciding that there was no point in arguing.


	13. Outtake: Caleb

**_CALEB POV_**

"Jacob," I said, jogging to catch up with him. Dang, but he's _big_. "We need to talk."

In fact, we needed to do more than just talk, we needed to discuss boundaries and territory and Chrissy. We needed to get a fucking great _stick_- No violence, Brennan. No violence.

His eyes flicked momentarily to me, and then away again, almost dismissively. "Yeah?"

_Back off from my girl. _

My fists clenched convulsively as I imagined someone else being there for her, being her main man. Someone else _touching_ her . . .

I hid my hands, forcing myself to relax. _Cool, calm, collected._

"You like Chrissy," I began. _Yes, that was really smooth._

"Yes, I like her." Jacob said, in a '_who wouldn't?_' kind of tone. Which was fair enough.

"I'd appreciate it if you left her alone," I began coldly. Then softened at the thought of her. "I've been working up to a relationship with Chris since we were _fourteen_, since I first saw her."

Jacob did a kind of double take, like he was choking on something, before calming his face and curling one of his bristly, black, fat eyebrows.

"I know it's a long time," I added hastily. "It's just the way I met her. I don't want to scare her off, you know?" I wondered why I was explaining myself to him, but didn't stop. "I . . . value being with her. Even if it's only as a friend. If we were to get together, and I took it too far, too fast, I'd scare her off, and never see her again," I explained.

"What did you do to her? How traumatic was . . . _it_?" He said in a slow, deep voice.

Fucking freak of nature.

"I didn't do anything to her. I _saved_ her." I said, glaring at him. _What have _you_ done for her?_

"From what?" The lump questioned. "Or who?"

"It was summer camp. I'd been watching her for days. She was so beautiful. The way she moved, smiled, laughed. I was obsessed. I still am. But I'd been noticing others watching her too," I began ominously, feeling like a script from a bad sitcom, then moving on to describe how I'd found her cornered.

"I pulled them off her. It was all I could do not to beat them to death." Come to think of it, one of them ended up with a fractured wrist. _Good Riddance_. "Then she looked at me, and she was so . . . happy, and grateful." _Her face was practically _glowing_._

"I gather you got to introduce yourself then," He said, completely avoiding the issue that I was explaining.

"Yes. I did," I said, undeterred. "But do you understand now?"

"Yeah. I understand. You two have history," Jacob said simply. Straight to the point.

_"_So, you won't ask her out or anything like that." I asked, trying to sound like I was looking for confirmation rather than telling him what to do.

"Listen, Caleb, I can't make any promises. The second she wants me, I'm hers. I'd do anything for Chrissy. I've only known her one day but-" Jacob shrugged, cutting himself off.

I glared at him, angrily expelling air from my lungs. _Do not attack the girl-stealer. "_I know what you mean. I can hardly blame you for that. I'm the same."

_Do not attack the girl-stealer. _"Well, uh, gotta run,' I said lamely, and ran away before my violent side won over and this idiot got hurt.

I kicked at a clump of sand. "I _love_ her," I said to myself, seeing how it sounded. I wasn't actually sure if I did, seeing as I had no past experience to compare to.

"Mmmm, I'm sure you do."

I glared at Lochlan. He had never acted the same around me since that incident with Chrissy when he'd stepped in to save my ass with her. Only one good thing had come out of it.

The first, was that I'd effectively warned every guy off of her, by somehow managing to persuade them all that she stole your masculinity and turned you into a kiss-ass gay boy, my main example to the fact being Loch himself. He'd had a little fun pretending to check out the guys in the locker room at first, but now he was just upset and having to import his dates or hit on tourists. **(A/N: I personally have nothing against gays. I even have a gay relative and I get along well with his boyfriend. Please keep in mind that THIS IS A HORNY TEENAGE GUY TALKING TO HIS HORNY TEENAGE GUY BFF HERE.)**

"What do you mean? I fucking well ruined any future love life she may have on this island!"

"That would be obsession with the one girl you can't have. And don't look at me like that!" You _know_ that you can't just use her. Her mother is one of the big wigs that you need to be buddy-buddy with."

That was true. The one and only Mandy Preston herself had given me that particular lecture the very first time Chrissy had brought me over to her house. But there was no way that I'd admit to him that he was right, best mate or not.

**_~*~*~*~*~*~*FLASHBACK*~*~*~*~*~*_**

_ 'Well, Mr Brennan,' She said, leaning back and clicking her red nails together ominously. 'It's certainly good to meet you at last. I've heard so much about you.'_

_ 'All good, I hope,' I said nervously, trying to impress her. _

_ 'Yes. All good,' She answered, and began to relax. 'But that's the problem, see? Christina is my only baby, and I will not see her get hurt.'_

_ 'I would never hurt Chris, Miss Preston.'_

_ 'I certainly hope so. For your sake at least. I'm sure that you know who I am?'_

_ She was Mandy Preston, the best-known celebrity stylist out there. Her big break had been when she had personally choreographed the wardrobe and make up of an entire music video shoot. It had worked exceptionally well, none of them clashing or looking too alike._

_ 'Well, Mr Brennan, where I work, I get a lot of access to the movie producers and directors. Not to mention the big recording studio managers. You screw with my daughter, and you will never be signed by anyone who matters within the continental US. Am I understood?'_

**_~*~*~*~*~*~*END FLASHBACK*~*~*~*~*~*_**

I looked around for something to guide him away from what we were talking about. And then I spotted it.

The freaking inexplicable, disappearing dog from the night before. I nudged him and waved in the mutt's direction.

"Loch, can you see if you can grab it or something?"

My plan worked well. He was instantly distracted by the huge thing and whistled at it encouragingly. It paused for a few seconds before grinning - in some weird animal way - at us, before tripping lazily across the distance, it's tail twitching spasmodically. It's tongue flopped out of it's mouth on one side in a creepy imitation of one of those cartoon dead bodies.

I felt a vibrate in my pocket and jerked my phone out of my pocket, polishing the red plastic casing.

I manouvered through the files until I eventually reached the inbox of my email. Naturally, it was from Chrissy. I sent a brief reply then turned my attention back to the matter at hand.

"Dude," I said. _"_What are we going to do with it? Is it even a dog? Check those teeth. But we can't leave it here. It can't go to mine . . . yours?"

Loch shook his head violently, no doubt remembering the last time his mother discovered a homeless animal sheltering underneath his bed. "Do you think Chrissy will-?"

"Maybe." I said, while secretly thinking, _Yes! Yes, she will! Because she's amazing and kind . . ._

I pressed her speed dial number, even though I didn't need to. I could have entered her number with my eyes closed.

"Cal?" Her sweet voice answered straight away.

"Chris," I said, luxuriating in my ability to call her by that extremely intimate nickname. "We picked up that dog again at the beach. But I'm not sure if it's even a dog-"

"If it's got four legs, a fur coat and a tail it can stay in my bathroom." She interrupted me, sounding worried.

I choked back the reply that would give away my infatuation. "'Kay. Be there in five."

Lochlan immediately began walking, guessing from my half of the conversation what her answer was. "Come on, boy."

"Loch?" I said tentatively. _You're my best mate. Please don't throw this in my face._

"Mmm?"

"I need some advice." _Here goes . . ._ "Girl advice. It's about Chrissy . . ."

"No!" He yelled, reminding about what he had already done for me.

"Sorry. It's just . . . she liked you so much . . ." I tried to justify my actions in my mind.

"Shut up." He flicked me in the side of the head. "I don't want to know what goes on in that sick head of yours. So, what do you want to know?"

I explained in the simplest terms possible, then was hit with sudden pessimism. "What if they start dating?! I'll have to be the thrilled best friend. I'll have to tell her how great she looks, that Jacob's going to love her. I'll have to take her dress shopping for prom so that she can look good for _a different guy_. God, I can't do it!"

"Chill, bro!" He said calmly, spelling out why it would be so easy to secure my future with her.

I almost stopped dead in my tracks at that. It was utter idiocy that I hadn't thought of that. Why _didn't_ Ithink of that?!

**(A/N: Lochlan's advice was: "It's easy. Ask her out. If she's yours, she can't be his. You know her. You know what she likes, what she doesn't. What makes her tick. It'll be a piece of cake.")**

"Hey, Chris." I said casually.

Lochlan hovered awkwardly in the doorway. "Chrissy." He said, instead of a proper greeting.

"So, um, this is it?" She said and pointed at the lump of fur in the doorway.

"Yeah. This is him. Our mystery walk-about canine."

"I see what you mean about 'not a dog' thing, Cal." She said, biting her finger. "He - it is a he, right?"

I nodded.

"He's huge! And check the teeth on him!"

I grinned. That had been _ exactly_ what I had said.

"And he's so handsome! What should we call him?"

"Tommy. After Edison," Lochlan said lamely.

"We could name him Freddie. After Freddie Mercury," I suggested, then winced. _Just_ as lame.

"Uh, gotta shoot guys. Places to go, boys to perve on . . ." He commented jokingly, giving me a teasing look up and down while grimacing at me. _'I'm not gay. And everyone thinks I am. I hate you'_ his expression said.

Chrissy watched him go with a weird look on her face, most likely to do with the last comment. She suddenly reddened a little and shifted awkwardly.

"Um, well, it's kind of late."

I looked at her expectantly.

"Either you're dropping _Freddie_ and running, or you're crashing here the night again."

Hell, she honestly thought that I'd prefer to go hang at _my_ house when I could sleep right next to her instead? She was clueless sometimes.

"I'd much rather stick around here than go home and face the olds. Georgina turned into a stalker," I explained. It was upsetting for my mom to be constantly chasing a girl off the property with a broom. Well, a broom was probably an exaggeration. _I hope_. "If she's not texting or ringing my cell, she's phoning the main line or calling around the house . . . " I'd even gone so far as to block her number, but she just got a _new_ cellphone.

"I should have stayed away," I said, not-so-subtly edging into her room and onto her intoxicatingly scented bed. _Mmm . . ._

And then I really put my foot in it, telling her how awesome Georgina was.

"You shouldn't have come to the beach the other day," Chrissy said, concerned for my love life, just like a good friend should be.

Friend.

"Yes, I should have. You're important, Chris. More important than any of the girls I've gone out with before." That monologue had come straight from the heart. But, just my luck, Chrissy completely ignored me and instead shut the damn dog into her bathroom.

"Bros before hos, Cal."

I was shocked. What was she going to start spouting out next? That I was her Brother from another Mother? BFFL? Sometimes I wanted to bang my head against the wall. How could she not see how I felt about her? Was I that much of a good _friend_ that she couldn't see what was right under her nose?

Two choices suddenly appeared in my head. I could attempt to tell her what was going on in my screwed up head. Already, I was in favor of that one. The other option was to forget about her in that way. To forget about _us_. Which also had some benefits.

Could I really go exclusive? With only _one_ girl, forever and always? I looked her over, remembering the things I loved about her. Her smile, her laugh, her legs, her eyes, her sense of humor, her legs, her hair, her voice, her legs, her handwriting even . . .

Tired of shifting awkwardly while I bored a hole in her head, Chrissy excused herself out of the room, saying something about rules. It took me a few moments to forget about her legs, but I managed and rattled off a couple of her rules, which I never kept anyway. But maybe this time I would.

The way she sang in the shower. Another thing that I loved about her. It was Abba, every time.

Running a finger through the dust on the screen of her computer, I began to search out exactly what the thing was. It was difficult. I had to mix and match out its various aspects against the various aspects of other animals. The huge size, the teeth. The eyes that held the intelligence of a human, the fur of a dog. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that it was some mutant version of a wolf. But with no guts. It was as a tame as a . . . very tame creature.

"Cal!" Almost on instinct, I jumped back from the computer desk, then had to remind myself that I wasn't doing anything wrong. This time.

"What?"

"I can't move," she complained, blaming the mutant. "And besides, he's _looking_ at me." She stressed the word.

She was cute when she was paranoid. Hell, she was cute anyway! I loved that about her. But I could hardly tell her that.

"You're shy because a wild animal is checking you out?" I expelled my breath and with it came the one thought that had been hovering in my head for the past hour. "Lucky mutt." He was in the same room as her _and she wasn't wearing anything._

_Snap out of it._

Chrissy wandered out, still throwing suspicious glances at the mutant, which was following her and scanning the room like a . . . bodyguard.

"Cal, what exactly is this?" She asked, sponging at her hair and pointing.

"I Googled it." I said. "Wolf - but this one is harmless, I'm pretty sure. But probably hungry."

"Find him something from the fridge downstairs. A steak or something."

"A _s_teak? You would feed this huge _mutt _a steak. Chris, your cook buys the _best damn steak_ out there, and you want to waste it-"

The words caught in my throat when she glowered at me. It was the single most sexy thing I had ever seen her do. And this was coming from the guy who had seen her practically _pole-dancing_ except the pole was horizontal and actually a ballet bar.

Raiding her fridge, I snagged a couple of random strawberries before hurrying back up the stairs.

I pushed Freddie outside, thinking of the bloody meat on her pale carpet.

"So, er. What do you think of the new kid?" I said, stealing her comb and hairdryer. Anything to occupy my hands.

"He's okay, I guess."

I grimaced at how she'd avoided answering properly.

"Yes, okay, I like him! Ow!"

"Sorry," I said and pulled as lightly as I could. "Is it because he's . . . good looking? Or is it something else?"

Knot free hair went there. The bits that were still tangled stayed where I could reach them. I threw a still-dripping lock of hair over her shoulder, where it slapped against her neck. She shivered and I moved it again. _Dry_ the hair, douche.

"I guess it's 'cos he's attractive."

"A crush then?" _Please, please, please let it be a crush. Please, please, please._

"Yeah, a crush." She lay back on her bed.

Was it even _legal_ for someone to look so fucking tempting? In a daze I clicked off the hair dryer and resisted the urge to nose dive into her chest. It would be awkward later. Instead, I settled for sprawling within smelling distance.

She glanced sideways at me and I freaked out. Did she guess that I was thinking inappropriate thoughts? _Throw her off the trail._

"Chrissy's got a boyfriend." I said in a teasing voice, repeating the phrase a couple of times.

"Do not," she said simply, not even loosing her cool.

"Do too." _Yes. Lovely. Now she'll think you're childish._

Apparently though, I had spurned my beloved into a frenzy of righteous denial, and she attempted to smother me with her pillow.

To be pleased, or not to be pleased, now _that_ was the question. On one hand, I was surrounded by Chrissy's delicious, intoxicating girl smell. On the other, I couldn't breath.

_Air . . ._

I jabbed her swiftly in the gut and gasped for breath as she rolled around clutching at her stomach. I remembered very suddenly that she was ticklish. How had I forgotten that?

So I tickled her, all over -secretly enjoying my fingers brushing up against her curves - until she was panting sexily and begging for mercy.

I listened to her puffing for a second before stopping concernedly. What if I had actually killed her from lack of oxygen?

Readjusting my hold on her neck, I tilted her chin back to clear her airway before mentally prepping myself for mouth-to-mouth. This was a medical procedure, not me pervertedly taking advantage of a half-dead girl.

The millisecond before I pushed the first lungful of air down her trachea, her eyes shot open.

The entire world slowed around me and I could only watch worriedly as my lips descended on an inexorable pathway down to hers, although in variation from the original plan, they were in more of a pucker than a CPR position.

We touched. My natural, instinctive sex god brain took over and we kissed sweetly for a few moments. The best few moments of my goddamn life.

But all good things have to end, I realised, as I recognised the alarmed emotion in her eyes.

"Georgina?" She said, moving those lips in ways that made me want to grab her and repeat. _I've tasted blood and I want more. _

But I couldn't. Unless . . . _Come clean. Tell her everything._

"She doesn't matter." I said. "I love you."

I kissed her again and she tasted so much better than the first time around. Like cherry flavoured lipgloss. She didn't respond.

_Fuck._

"Chris, I'm sorry. I-" I stopped myself from trying to justify. "I shouldn't have."

I couldn't look at her now. Not only had I blatantly assaulted her, but had destroyed our friendship too.

And then she roughly laced her fingers into my hair, pulling me down and-

_Pure, fucking bliss._


	14. Outtake: Chrissy POV, snoggin' w Caleb

**_CHRISSY POV_**

I hummed absently, getting louder as I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair, the fruity aroma of raspberry overwhelming the bathroom. I had bought new shampoo this afternoon.

"You are the _danc_ing queen. Feel the beat from the tambourine-" I stopped, forgetting the next words temporarily, distracting myself by turning off the water and opening the steamed up glass door of the shower.

"You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life …Cal!" I yelled.

"What?" he answered.

"I can't move with this d- um . . . Freddie . . . in here. He's freaking _huge_."

Absolutely gorgeous, of course. He had reddish-brown shaggy fur; a lolling pink tongue; sharp, white teeth and he seemed to be knowing, and _alive_. Although, at the moment, he looked a little _too_ knowing, his liquid eyes running over my dripping body.

"And besides," I grabbed a white fluffy towel, "He's looking at me."

"You're shy because a wild animal is checking you out?"

When he put it like that, it sounded stupid, but when I looked back at it, I felt immediately suspicious of his roving line of sight.

"Cut it out!" I hissed, embarrassed. To my intense surprise, he did just that, whining unhappily and resting his chunky head on the floor.

I dressed quickly, and then joined Caleb in my room where I rubbed at my sodden hair with another towel. The canine followed me, padding along behind like some guard or chaperone.

"Cal, what exactly _is_ this?" I gestured wildly towards the animal sitting on my bedroom carpet.

"I Googled it. Wolf." He answered matter-of-factly. "But this one is harmless, I'm pretty sure. But probably hungry."

"Oh. Well, find him something from the fridge downstairs. A steak or something."

"A _steak_? You would feed this huge mutt a _steak_. Chris, your cook buys the best damn steak out there, and you want to _waste_ it-"

I fixed him with a stare, and he ran out of my room. I squeezed my hair one last time with the soggy towel, balled it up and lobbed it in general direction of the bathroom, before perching on the edge of my bed and plugging in my hairdryer. I began to systematically dry off strands of hair.

Caleb dangled a steak in front of my face and whistled to Amadeus the wolf, casually tossing the meat outside and propping the French door open so that it could return inside later.

"So, er. What do you think of the new kid?" Caleb smiled at me, teeth flashing. He took the silver dryer handle from me and drew a comb through the tangled mess.

"He's okay, I guess." I replied cautiously, because Caleb a tendency for big brotherly malevolence towards anyone I liked who wasn't himself.

He glared at me pointedly.

"Yes, okay, I like him!" I admitted "Ow."

"Sorry." He murmured, tugging now more gently at the stubborn knot. "Is it because he's good looking? Or is something else?"

I closed my eyes, thinking. He _was_ very handsome. And had a very impressive body. I imagined Jacob without his close-fitting grey t-shirt...

I shivered.

"I guess it's 'cos he's attractive."

"A crush then?" He ran the wave of hot air along my now dry and knot-free locks.

"Yeah." I flopped backwards, staring at the ceiling. "A crush."

The drone stopped with a small click, and Caleb lay back next to me, fitting easily on my massive bed.

"Chrissy's got a boy-friend!" He sung under his breath. "Chrissy's got a _boy_-friend!"

"Do not."

"Do too!"

I retorted with a flurry of aggressive whacks with my pillow, half sitting up for a better aim. He attacked back with a gentle prod into my stomach. My weak point. I collapsed again, helpless as Caleb tickled me, lightly running his fingers across my body.

"S-stop!" I wheezed. "Please?" To my surprise, he did, stopping dead still, fingers still curled tenderly behind my neck. Subsequently, his grip changed, and he leaned closer, over me, his breath puffing warmly across my face. He smelled nice, like peppermint and lynx.

Then his lips were on mine; warm and sweet; pressing gently down. I couldn't think. All I could see was his eyes, gazing intently into my soul. He left my mouth, moving his hand to cup my chin.

"Georgina …" I whispered, my stomach muscles clenching convulsively.

"She doesn't matter. I love _you_."

My mind wouldn't work, wouldn't process the words, wouldn't make sense out of the noises.

He kissed me again, briefly, and I lay still, unsure.

"Chris, I'm sorry." Caleb pushed himself upright. "I … I shouldn't have."

He turned away.

"Cal." I dragged his face around, back to mine, and he hesitantly tilted nearer to me again.

This time, I was certain. I entwined my fingers into his hair and my lips reached up to meet his.


	15. Outtake: Chrissy, shampoo

CHRISSY POV:  
"Where's the shampoo?"  
'There should be some in the bottle,' I said to him, trying not to stare at him in all of his dripping wet, half-naked glory. I'd seen Caleb topless before, of course, every time we went swimming, but, this was different somehow. I'd never looked at him as boyfriend material before. He'd never seemed the type, but as per usual, he had proved me wrong.  
'Chris. I love the way your hair smells, don't get me wrong, but I don't want to smell like a girl.'  
I attempted to raise one eyebrow at him, but failed miserably and pretending that I had been aiming for both up all along. 'It's all I've got. So your options are like a girl or strawberry thickshake.'  
Cinching his towel a little tighter, he shrugged irritably and moved back into my bathroom. In a second I heard the water turn back on and I relaxed from the tense position that I hadn't even noticed my muscles knotting into.  
I looked back at the tall boy leaning back in my spare chair. He was good-looking, there was no question there. He was sweet - his quiet assurances before had told me that. Although, he didn't seem to think that Caleb was my somebody that "so worth all the crap times".  
Which made me think - was he? It was still difficult to think of him in that way. I'd always seen him as my best friend. He was the one who had become my brother after Jesse died.  
The camp where I had originally met Caleb had been my Mom's way of helping me to get his death. She was a business woman, with no real time or energy for emotions. She had grieved for her eldest child by dedicating a Houston branch of her make up line to his memory. Pretty damn pathetic, I had thought.  
My way of getting over it was to pretend he had never existed and simply not think about him, which had become increasingly easier once I met Caleb.  
Caleb. My stand-in brother, my best friend, my boyfriend. The main guy in my life. That was a fact. Caleb was irreplaceable. No matter how understanding or intuitive or damned hot Jacob might be, I was with the fantasmagorical blonde musician.  
'I'll just go now,' Jacob said, tracing circular patterns on the top of my desk. 'See you tomorrow, Chrissy.'  
'Yeah. Bye, Jake.'


	16. Outtake: Chrissy, tw: assault

SUMMER CAMP: CHRISSY POV  
"Hey babe," I turned around to see a greasy haired boy walking slowly towards me. "You want a drink?"  
I grimaced at him. "It's eight in the morning. And I don't drink."  
"Come on, just one, sweetheart." He got closer, and I tried to shuffle subtly towards the girls bathroom.  
"I've seen those looks you've been giving me, darling."  
"And me," I spun to see another guy strolling around the corner of the building. "And Ethan here," he gestured at a final addition to their group.  
"So, babe. How about it?" The one called Ethan lazily drawled. "A quick drink."  
"And then maybe we could have some fun, eh?"  
My breathing started to catch, and I managed to splutter out, "No, I'd rather not." I tried to make a run for the bathroom; even if they followed me in, I could always lock myself in a toilet cubicle. But before I'd taken half a step, there was a hot, sweaty hand around my wrist and I was slammed against the wall. The sun glared into my eyes, and all I could see were three shadowy shapes.  
"Oh, god. Please, no. Please," I whispered.  
"Did you hear that? She's begging for it."  
Then, my brain wasn't functioning properly. All I could notice were slight details.  
His tongue was slimy.  
Those hands were cold against my stomach.  
That grinding was painful.  
There was a nail jabbing into my back.  
Suddenly, the kisser was gone. I opened the eyes that I hadn't even realised were closed. A golden-haloed silhouette dragged another body off me, and the third turned away of his own accord.  
I slid shakily down the wall, tugging my clothes back down to cover my skin. The sun was no longer blinding me, and my rescuer turned into a tall blond boy, who was kicking the last assaulter in the chest.  
He faced me, and I heard my breath catch again, although for a completely different reason. He was handsome. My hero. My saviour. My angel. My god. My-  
"Christina? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"  
I shook my head, and let him help me up. "Thanks for-" I gestured helplessly. "And please, call me Chrissy."  
"Well Chrissy, I'm Caleb. Caleb Brennan."


End file.
